


Blue's Island

by emansil



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: M/M, animagus (of a sort) fic, chaptered fic, travel fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-30
Updated: 2013-06-02
Packaged: 2017-12-13 11:11:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 34,595
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/823633
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/emansil/pseuds/emansil
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Another Horcrux has been discovered. Harry, Ron and Hermione must travel half way across the world to find it. Destroying it will require the assistance of the most unlikely candidate.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Originally written for Glompfest 2012.
> 
> What a labour of love this turned into. I’ve truly loved every minute of writing it, except when I didn’t due to my own inability to make my words say what I wanted. Thank you bbethable for the delicious prompt. It was the prompt alone that caused me to throw my hat into the ring so to speak. My only regret: I ran out of time to do it the justice it really deserved. Thank you to my two betas, R and V, without you, it would still be in the beginning phases.

Chapter 1

**27 December, 1997, early morning, Forest of Dean**

“HARRY! HARRY! What is it? What’s the matter?” He could hear Hermione calling to him; could hear the terror in her voice, but was unable to reply. What he was seeing was horror beyond belief. It was sick. The bile was rising in him and he knew he’d be ill when he was finally able to break the connection. Finally, it was over. The spell was complete.

Harry was free, for now. Unable to contain his nausea, he fell forward and vomited. Everything he’d consumed that day and the evening before poured out of him. Hermione and Ron both stumbled backwards, shock, dismay and concern on their faces.

Purged finally, he could only rest his feverish and throbbing head against the cool of the grass. Never again would Harry wonder how certain spells-- the ones Voldemort was so fond of, the dark ones --were performed. He now knew.

The warm voice of Ron performing the cleaning spells was like a lullaby to Harry’s tortured spirit. He clung to it.

Voldemort had just split his soul and Harry had seen the horror of it with his own eyes. And the pain--even second hand--the pain was barely bearable. The process was excruciating, even for someone like Voldemort. Was being immortal worth that much pain? In Voldemort’s mind, it must be.

“Harry? Can you speak now? Is there anything we can get you?” Hermione was on her knees next to him. Ron came to stand beside them and handed her a scrap of material that dripped. Wringing out the excess, she held the cloth to Harry’s head. It felt good, cool and refreshing. After a few moments, he rose up and sat back on his heels.

“I saw him. There’s another Horcrux we’ll need to find. He’s split his soul again.”

“What?” Both Ron and Hermione screeched and leaped to their feet.

“Harry, are you sure? Why did you let him in?” Panicked, Hermione began the usual accusations.

“Hermione! I didn’t let him in! I was in him. I don’t think he knew I was there. I’m positive he didn’t know. Maybe in the past, but this time he was too involved in what he was doing to pay attention to anything else.”

“So how – I mean. What – Was it foul?” Ron finally managed to complete his sentence.

Harry stopped and looked up at him. “Well, based on the fact that I just sicked up all over our camping area, what do you think?”

“Yeah, umm, sorry mate, I don’t know what to say.”

“Just don’t. Don’t ask me about it. Don’t ask me to describe it or explain it. I don’t think I can. It happened so fast I almost didn’t see. Wasn’t sure at first what I was seeing.”

“Then are you positive that’s what you did see?” Hermione questioned, as usual.

“I’m sure.” He grimaced as he turned the cloth around to the other side. His face still felt hot and feverish. “There’s nothing else it could have been. I can tell you this though, the pain I just went through was nothing compared to what Vo – I mean he went through. I could feel it through him, feel what he was feeling. It was agonizing. It’s ten times worse than the Cruciatus curse.”

“Do you know whose? Any chance you may have seen what it’s being housed in this time?”

Harry shook his head at Ron’s question, but fastened his gaze on Hermione. “We both know who it is, or was,” he said.

“You don’t think... Oh Harry. That’s horrible.”

“What? Who?” Ron asked looking back and forth between the two of them. They had not told him all the details of what had happened at Godric’s Hollow, just three nights previous. In the excitement of the destruction of the locket and his return, there just had not been the right time.

“It’s Bathilda Bagshot, isn’t it.” she said. It was not a question.

At Ron’s even more confused expression, they quickly told him the events of Christmas Eve. He took it better than Harry had thought he would.

After their meal Harry sat without speaking, but he knew the others knew he had something he needed to say. They knew each other so well; they waited patiently for him to speak.

“I think I saw her death before, in one of the connections with him. I mean, I didn’t know it was her, and I didn’t recognize it at the time, but since we’ve been there, I now know it was in Godric’s Hollow. There was an old woman, Dumbledore old. He kept at her. Something about how the facts had changed and she needed to update her information.”

“The History of Magic,” Hermione suggested.

Harry nodded. He took off his glasses and rubbed at the scar on his forehead. Would it always be there? Well, that was a ridiculous thing to think, of course it would be. It was part of who he was. Nothing would ever change that.

“He seemed to have a memory of the place as well. My mum and dad were there – in his thoughts I mean - and me. It made him angry.”

“Anyway, this old woman had a book in her hand. The more he yelled the more she just shook her head at him, and said she would not make any revisions. She’d rather die first. He told her that could be arranged. Then he killed her.”

 

**30 December, 1997, mid-morning, Hermione’s parents’ house**

She grabbed what looked to be a small pamphlet of tennis instructions from the bookcase in her parents study. A touch of the wand and it increased to the size of a huge book, large and fat, just the kind Hermione loved.

Harry had had another brief but informative connection with Voldemort in the past evening. He’d shared that he’d seen Voldemort crossing a very large body of water and arrive at a destination that was very unpopulated.

Voldemort had spoken to one other person, but it had not been in either English, or Parseltongue, or any other language Harry recognized.

They had Apparated directly into the Granger’s living room for Hermione to check her sources. She cast a strong disillusionment charm on them, and instructed them to be as quiet as possible. Having the neighbors think someone was burgling her parents’ home was not an option.

Just as the book began its transformation a small envelope fell out. Ron picked it up and then chuckled softly. “Not much of an artist, were you?”

Hermione froze. “What?” she cried and slapped her hand over her mouth. She spun around. “What is that? Where did you get it?” She snatched it out of Ron’s hand. Her own hand trembled as she did.

“Hermione? Are you okay?”

“I swear I didn’t do anything. It fell out of the booklet.” Confused and frustrated, Ron snapped.

“How could I have been so stupid, so careless? I can’t believe this.” She sank to the floor, her tears flowing freely.

Ron looked stricken. Harry didn’t know what was wrong either. “Hermione talk to us.” Harry cast Silencio, something that should have been done when they first arrived.

“Don’t you understand? I was so careful to take everything away, change everything, Obliviate everyone and anything that was from me, that was part of me.”

“We know. We understand how hard that was.”

She turned on him. “No you don’t. What would have happened if one day my dad decided he wanted to review these instructions and this fell out?” She thrust the small envelope and the card inside at him. It was a handmade card with a child’s drawing of a large tooth and a toothbrush on it. It read: 

_“Happy 30th Birthday Daddy” I brushed and flossed extra special for your birthday._ And it was signed, _I love you daddy, Hermione._

“Don’t you think they’d start to wonder who Hermione was? They could spend the rest of their lives trying to figure out who this is. My mum might even think my dad maybe had a secret life with another family. Or maybe there would be just enough memory left somehow; that they did remember someone, a daughter maybe, but where is she? Where has she gone?” She was sobbing uncontrollably now.

Harry wasn’t sure what he should do or say, but he did know Ron needed to be the one by her side. To have never had a family was one thing, but to consciously and intentionally give up a family that loved you and you loved, that was just something Harry could never imagine. A choice he could never willingly make.

Luckily, Ron too recognized that he should be the one to offer her comfort. He knelt down beside her and wrapped his arms around her and let her cry.

Harry thought it interesting that for all their strength and courage and perseverance, it is the smallest things that can finally break them.

He sat and waited. There was nothing else more important than this right now. This was Hermione’s broken moment. Everything else could wait.

After a while she began more sniffling then sobbing. She wiped her hands across her face, saw Ron’s sodden shirt and half-laughed and half-cried out loud. “Sorry, let me get that for you.” A quick drying spell followed and Ron’s shirt was not only dry, but appeared to have been newly pressed as well. It looked better than it had when he’d first put it on.

“Better?” Harry asked her.

She smiled and nodded giving him a quick kiss. “Better.”

She picked up the large volume and began to read, flipping through the pages. “Can you remember what it was you heard? I mean exactly.”

Harry always found it an interesting, but not always pleasant, fact that he could generally remember most everything he saw and heard in his visions with Voldemort. He closed his eyes and allowed himself to go back to his “dream” from last night. Everything that had occurred and had been said came back to him as if he was watching it all over again. He nodded and began speaking.

It all sounded like a bunch of consonants clacking and thumping against each other like when the Dursleys would get a flat tire and there would be this _thump, thump, thump_ sound, or when one of the trains he had ridden so often the summer after fifth year clickety-clacked over rails that were past their time. None of the sounds he was repeating made any sense to him.

But they seemed to Hermione, by the time he’d finished she had her finger on a section in the book and she was nodding. “It’s as I thought. The language was part of the original languages of the South America, specifically those of the Andes Mountains. I’m almost positive it’s Quechuan. Of course I’d have to hear more of it to know for sure, and do more research. Something I know we don’t have time for. But I feel very safe in saying that’s what it is.”

“I thought they only spoke Spanish there,” Ron said. “And how do you know this? Why do you have all these books on South America?”

“Some of the original languages are still spoken in certain parts. This is most likely found in Ecuador, Bolivia or Peru, where the Incas had their greatest influence. I wasn’t sure Australia was the right place for them. I thought perhaps they might prefer one of the countries of South America. Research was required.”

“Oh fucking great! That’s just bloody fucking wonderful. That really narrows it down." Harry snapped. "I mean we only had a small island to look for the Horcruxes here, and that’s been a total and unmitigated disaster. Now, we're supposed to go and look for one in an area that’s what, ten, twenty, even thirty times larger than all of Great Britain put together? In a place where we don’t know the language, we don’t know if Voldemort has any followers or if there’s a wizarding community, and we have no way of finding out. HOW IN THE BLOODY HELL ARE WE SUPPOSED TO FIND THE HORCRUX THERE?” Harry’s anger and frustration and fear, fear that he was going to fail everyone, overcame him.

Probably fearing that his anger was about to spike out of control, Hermione put a firm hand on his arm. “Harry James Potter don’t you dare blow up my parent’s home. This is not your Aunt Marge.”

The picture of his Aunt Marge, bitter old bat, as she had flown down the back gardens of Privet Drive made Harry smile and then start to giggle. Hermione joined him as did Ron a few seconds later. Soon they were laughing hard enough that tears were flowing and they were fighting over first dibs on the loo.

She made them all tea. “Now, if you’ll let me finish what I started to say earlier. Since Harry also mentioned seeing and I quote: “Fucking huge turtles, turtles the size of a small car.” I’d say our best place to start is Ecuador. It’s where the Galapagos Islands are and in the mountains they do still speak Quechuan.”

Once their tea was finished she put everything back the way it was and grabbed a few extra books to add to the ever-growing mobile library in her bag.

The three grasped hands and Disapparated. 

 

 **30 December, 1997, early evening, camping**

“Oh, this is very interesting,” Hermione whispered.

Harry ignored her. Hermione was always finding something “very interesting" in her reading.

“Oi! What was that for?” he snapped after she had elbowed him.

“Listen. Professor Charlie Darwin, the Care of Magical Creatures Professor during his tenure at Hogwarts, was also a very famous Muggle scientist. When an opportunity presented itself for him to travel on an expedition around the world to study and catalogue the different species of the world, he took it. Two assistants from Hogwarts traveled with him. Their job was to document and catalogue any previously undiscovered magical creatures.”

“Darwin was a wizard,” Harry stammered interrupting her. They had discussed him briefly in Year Six at Muggle Primary School, his last year before learning he was a wizard. Harry couldn’t remember what he was famous for, but he recognised the name.

“Yes, apparently, but that’s not the interesting part.”

“Nice try Harry, but you should know by now to just let her keep going.” Ron rolled his eyes and then grinned at Harry.

She glared at them both and continued her reading. “Only one of the two assistants remains known at the time of this writing. Edward Potter, who suffered from extremely poor eyesight but made up for it with his clear and concise handwriting, was the one assigned with the task of making sure all the discoveries were properly scribed.”

Hermione held up her hand before Harry had even begun to think about interrupting her.

“Mr. Potter, however did not finish the work because while exploring on his own, he fell under the spell of a young, and assumedly, beautiful native of the Amazon. He did not return to England with the rest of the expedition, instead choosing to remain there.

"Mr. Potter did eventually return to England, but not to Hogwarts, when he arrived some two years later with his barely over a year old son with him. The boy’s mother had died of a disease for which they were unable to find a cure, as had many other members of her tribe. Mr. Potter and the son did manage to survive.

"A strange but persistent rumour is that many of the members of this small tribe had the ability to communicate with serpents through a form of sibilant hissing and guttural noises. It is a believed to be an inherited trait, but can and does skip generations. The ability often shows itself at unusual and unexpected times.” She stopped reading.

Harry could only gape at her. Could this be? Was this his family? He tried to remember what he had seen in the Mirror of Erised, his first year. Had any of those faces been this exotic native of the Amazon? He could not remember. There had been so many faces he had not known. Realising now, he should have paid more attention. At the time he’d only had eyes and heart for his parents.

“Blimey, Harry. That could be yours. I meant your family. It’s got to be. I mean the talking to snakes. Who else could it be?”

“Dunno,” Harry said. “I don’t know anything about my family, especially on my father’s side. Needless to say he wasn’t a popular topic of conversation around the Dursley’s, at least not anything that was the least bit positive.”

That night as he lay in his sleeping bag Harry hugged the information to his spirit.

 

**31 December, 1997, early morning, camping**

“You’ve had another contact with him, haven’t you?” Hermione questioned the next morning.

“It’s not a contact Hermione. He doesn’t know I‘m there,” Harry snarled back at her. “And how do you know it’s happened again?”

Before she could answer, Ron interrupted. “Mate, you still talk in your sleep, not to mention all the thrashing around you do.”

Harry ran his hand through his hair. It needed cutting again, but he’d grow it Lucius Malfoy length before he’d have Hermione cut it again. Not that she’d done a bad job, but he didn’t think Ron would recover if he did.

“What was it this time?” they both asked. It was a bit like stereo.

“He knows the locket’s been destroyed.”

“What? How?”

“I don’t know, Hermione. Maybe he felt it. But he does, of that I am one hundred percent sure. And he’s angry. Really fucking angry! He’s even more intent on finding and stopping us.”

“Do you think he suspects that we know there’s a new Horcrux and we have a good idea of where he’s hidden it?” Ron asked.

“I don’t think so. After he finished screeching about the locket, he spoke to Nagini saying that at least the other ones were safe, and that no one even knew of the newest one. “

“Well that is good for our side. When do we go to South America?” Ron questioned as he began to gather up their belongings shrinking them down to size before handing them off to Hermione

 

**2 January, 1998, arrival in Galapagos Islands**

Harry wasn’t sure he would ever recover from the journey to just outside the small Baltra airport on Santa Cruz Island. The delay while they learned the coordinates of each leg of the trip caused them to not leave until late in the afternoon of first day of January. It was too far to Apparate in one go, and had to be done in stages. None of them having ever been there before they had to learn the exact coordinates, one wrong destination in mind could have been disastrous.

One thing he had learned; apparition sickness did not improve with repetition. Ron too looked exceedingly green; only Hermione seemed to have survived this latest bout.

Harry looked more closely at her. She had been just as queasy as they were when they had finally made an overnight rest in Western Canada, somewhere south of Vancouver. Unsure how far the Dark Lord’s influence may have spread outside of England, they had been careful about landing in more populated areas.

All three of them had had to spend a few minutes losing their lunch. That, plus the time difference, and accompanying jet lag from Great Britain to Western Canada had really upset their equilibrium. While he and Ron were still recovering, barely able to think of food again, Hermione had left them saying she’d be back in a few minutes.

When she’d returned she had a small packet of pills with her. She said they were supposed to help with Muggle motion sickness, and she was going to see if they helped with multiple Apparition sickness.

Ron, of course, had laughed and told her that nothing but time and experience cured Apparition sickness, everyone knew that.

Harry was feeling alright by then and had thought he might be over it. He turned down the offer of the pills. Turned out he was wrong; he wasn’t over it.

Ron was wrong as well and it happened that once more Hermione was correct. She seemed to get more pleasure than was decent over having the last laugh on this subject.

“Mate, when are we ever going to learn not to doubt her?” Ron said as he once again wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. “How many of those nacho things did I eat anyway?” A loud burp escaping as he asked.

 

**2 January, 1998, mid-afternoon, Puerto Ayora, Santa Cruz Island, Galapagos Islands**

They were finally settled into their hotel. Harry had said no to any more camping. He’d had quite enough of that, thank you. If a situation arose that forced them to return to their vagabond lifestyle, fine. Until then, he wanted a soft bed on which to rest.

There was no argument from either Ron or Hermione.

They confirmed two doubles. Harry was sure he’d be spending most nights alone, but they got the extra double in case Ron did something Ron-like and had to return to sleeping in the room with Harry. Hermione seemed to have forgiven Ron, and Ron was doing all he could to help that along, but things sometimes changed. They’d decided on the Estrella de Mar. It was an inexpensive small hotel and close to the center of town, near restaurants for their evening meals as well as clubs and bars for after hours. Not that he expected there to be much use of those. But if they found a chance to take advantage, they would.

“What’s the plan now?” Ron asked once they had all unpacked and taken brief naps. Jet lag was not pleasant and the time difference was brutal. Luckily the previous Apparition sickness had passed. They were starved; food was next on the agenda.

Settling back, each with a cup of tea, they discussed their plans. Since Harry had seen tortoises in his vision of Voldemort it was decided to try and visit all the islands that had a large tortoise population. After that, if necessary, they would visit the islands where sea turtles lived in case Harry had mistaken the one for the other. Finally, every island that had any tortoises or turtles of any kind would be checked out. After that, well, they hadn’t a clue.

 

**3 January, 1998, mid-afternoon, a small unnamed island in the Galapagos Islands**

Laughing in a way Harry had not seen her laugh for longer than he cared to remember, Hermione reached into her never-ending bag and pulled out a small camera. Harry recognized it as one of the cheap kind the Dursley’s had always used.

“What are you doing? What is that?” Ron asked.

“It’s a camera. I picked it up at the Apparition point when we arrived in Guayaquil. I’m taking a picture. We may never get an opportunity like this again. These are the most significant non-magical islands in the world.”

“Really?” Ron looked around. “Beside, that is really cute. Unusual, but cute.” She pointed at a giant tortoise that was lumbering across the terrain. A medium sized bird with the largest and bluest feet Harry had ever seen rode on its back as if it was a monarch and the tortoise its private, royal carriage. Harry half way expected it to start waving at its subjects.

He had to agree with Hermione, it was rather charming.

The three of them relaxed, watching as the giant tortoise made its way across the clearing. Hermione clicked away as it came closer. It took a while, but it moved faster than Harry would have expected. When it was about five feet from them the bird on its back seemed to notice them for the first time. It lifted its head and looked at each of them in turn. When it got to Harry it cocked its head first one direction, then the other. A sudden and sharp movement, it looked back at Ron and Hermione and then back at Harry. Its head moved back and forth in surprise, Harry thought, and then sharply forward. As if it wanted to make sure it was really seeing what it thought it was.

“Well, that’s a bit unusual. Isn’t it? You don’t suppose we’re the first humans it’s seen, do you?” Ron questioned.

“Got it!” Hermione said as she took the final snap. “Don’t be ridiculous, Ron,” she said as she was putting the camera away. “Look around you.” She pointed to the few other people who had come on to the island from one of the tour boats. The bird promptly flew off the back of the tortoise and come to stand directly in front of Harry.

The tortoise, in turn, let out a small hiss and turned to lumber away.

The three friends sat gingerly on the ground in front of the bird, unsure what it was going to do. But it did nothing, just looked at them, concentrating on Harry. Harry had thought he’d be able to avoid all the staring he normally suffered here on these islands away from wizarding society. Who knew it would be a damned bird doing the staring.

After a few moments, when nothing else happened, they began to relax and talk, discussing the journey, their plans and what had happened at the Lovegood’s in greater detail. The bird appeared to be listening intently.

Eventually Ron and Hermione were ready to return to the hotel, but Harry decided he wanted to stay. It was peaceful and relaxing. When he awoke from an unexpected but wonderful nap some twenty minutes later, the bird was gone. Harry was strangely disappointed. He hoped to see it again. It had made him feel, oddly enough, comforted.

 

**7 January, 1998, sunset and early evening, the same small island in the Galapagos Islands**

Harry landed in the small clearing. It had become the place they Apparated in and out of when they came to the island. He had started to think of it as Blue’s Island in his mind. The bird was usually there when they were. He and Hermione had gone to some of the other islands again, looking for anything they might have missed, even going so far as to ask questions of those that lived in the area. As they could not say what they were looking for or where it might be, it was hard for them to get any real answers. Not that he could blame them, but he did hear most of them refer to him and Hermione as _loco_ when they left.

One thing they had discovered. If there was a wizarding community here, it was well hidden and no one, absolutely no one had ever heard of Lord Voldemort.

Hermione had said she wanted to go back to the bookstore and also wanted to pick up some more bottled water from the super Mercado. Harry was to get Ron and they’d all meet at the hotel.

Once his stomach had stopped churning, Harry went in search of Ron. He could hear Ron talking, but who he was talking to or what he was saying he could not determine at first. Then as he got closer he saw Ron sitting on a fallen log and the blue-footed booby, Blue, was standing in front of him. Ron was telling the bird about their past autumn. About how the three of them had been running from a really bad person and about how he, Ron, had allowed himself to get really angry at their situation. He told the bird about the locket and the dark magic in it. How the magic affected him, made him feel it was all hopeless, and how he had left his best friend and the woman he loved most in the world alone. Left them when they needed him more than they ever had.

Blue sat and, as before, seemed to be listening; maybe that was why Ron felt it was okay to voice what had happened as well as how he felt about it. Ron kept talking.

Harry listened and felt for his friend. Coming back and facing them could not have been easy, yet Ron had done it.

 

**10 January, 1998, 11:55 A.M., Machu Picchu**

Nothing, Harry felt nothing. No pull of the Horcrux, no slight whispering in his head, no sudden blinding headache. None of the reactions he’d come to associate with the Horcrux. It wasn’t here.

Unsure as to whether he was more disappointed or relieved, he let loose a sigh. They needed to find it. What they were going to do with it once they found it, he didn’t know. He remembered the locket. No matter how they had tried, the only thing that had destroyed it had been the sword. He doubted there would be an extra one of those hanging around. Nor were they likely to find the fang of a basilisk, although that was probably more likely than the other.

He joined Hermione and Ron in gawking at the ruins. They were magnificent. Built with no mortar or cement, even now the information had said a knife’s blade could not be inserted between the stones. Wanting to test it for himself, Harry pulled out the small knife he carried with him. It was true; you couldn’t.

Ron and Hermione were arguing about something, as usual. Harry paid them no mind; that also was usual. He only paid attention when things grew heated, which this one had not, at least not yet.

“Hermione, of course, this place was built by wizards. Do you think Muggles could have done this?” Harry looked over in time to see the grand sweeping gesture of Ron’s arms indicating all of Machu Picchu.

“Ron, not everything fantastic and wonderful and beyond belief in this world has been created or built by wizards. Muggles are very ingenious and able to do things you can only imagine. Especially when kings or gods are involved. ”

“But Hermione, how can you even doubt--” Harry heard him start, and tuned him out. He didn’t need to hear anymore to know it would have the same outcome it always did. Hermione’s irritation that Ron refused to listen and Ron’s frustration that his own arguments never quite measured up to Hermione’s even when he knew he was right. Harry had heard it all before.

Instead he concentrated on enjoying the ruins.

 _Wait! What?_ Standing in the middle of one of the green terraces --the ones that looked like giant landscaped stair steps-- stood a tall and slender man. There was something terribly familiar about him. The shock of white blond hair and the pointy features which were visible even from a distance just clarified it. Draco Malfoy, it had to be. No one else looked like Malfoy.

He looked the same as he had two days ago, when Harry had thought he’d seen him at Easter Island. Now, he knew, he had. The clothing was different now. Malfoy was wearing a brightly coloured, hand woven poncho of purple and green and other colours which were less visible. There was a design on it as well, but from this distance, it was impossible to make out. It was very striking. Malfoy looked good in it. He was also wearing one of those black hats that the local inhabitants wore. Harry had no idea what they were called, but was sure Hermione would. The ends of Malfoy’s hair, which had grown quite long, curled along the nape of his neck, under the hat. The contrast between the two was striking.

Harry was not going to let him get away a second time.

“Hermione, Ron look!” he pointed at Malfoy, who looked straight at Harry. What happened next made Harry wonder about the state of the universe. Malfoy looked directly at him and instead of scowling or frowning, which would have been normal and perfectly understandable, he first gave a look of surprise and then, bizarreness on top of strangeness, he actually smiled at him. Harry looked around to make sure it was him Malfoy had smiled at. There was no one else. There was then a look of bewilderment followed by one of extreme disappointment, which was a reaction Harry was more used to from Malfoy, and Malfoy disappeared.

“Did you see?” He turned back to Ron and Hermione who were still arguing and had never turned to look.

“See what, Harry?” Ron stammered.

“It was Malfoy. I just saw Draco Malfoy. It’s not the first time either.”

“What?” Hermione said, “You never said anything.”

Ron too spoke, “That’s daft Harry, Malfoy’s at the Manor, or he’s back at Hogwarts after Christmas break.”

“No, he’s not at the Manor. I’d have seen him in my -- don’t start Hermione,” he turned and snapped at her, knowing what she was about to say, “when I have the visions of Voldemort. And since I’ve now seen him twice in less than a week’s time, I’d say he’s not at school either.”

“What do you mean, you’ve seen him twice?” Ron asked with a questioning scowl.

“Exactly what you think it means. I saw him first at Easter Island. You two were arguing about space aliens being the ones that brought the Giant Heads, or some such nonsense. I really don’t recall and it’s not important. I thought I had to be off my nut to think it could possibly have been him. But now I’ve just seen him again.”

“Okay, sorry mate. Well, where is he?” Ron began turning his head and then body all around, looking for Malfoy.

“He’s gone. Disappeared. Poof. Gone.”

“He Disapparated?” Hermione questioned.

“No. I’ve become quite familiar with that and that is not what happened. He literally disappeared. The even stranger thing was. He looked almost pleased to see me.”

“Then that couldn’t have been Malfoy,” Ron laughed. “Must have been one of those, what do you call it, dopplegangly?”

“Doppelganger,” Hermione and Harry spoke at the same time.

“Yeah, that’s it. Must have been one of those. So did he still look like the superior git he always was?”

“No,” Harry shook his head. “He looked sort of – lonely.”

“Harry. Now don’t be upset,” Hermione started which really, when he thought about it, was almost a sure-fired way to guarantee that he would be upset. “Are you sure you’re not obsessing over him again? You thought you saw him once and now you’re going to start seeing him everywhere.”

Harry sighed. He was right. It had worked. He was now upset, or rather, more irritated than upset. He made every effort to calm down, “Hermione I’m not obsessing over him, I’ve had no reason to even think of him here. I was right to have obsessed about him before.”

“Are you sure, he just vanished? Did anyone else see him?” Hermione looked around; concern on her face, that Malfoy had possibly broken the rules.

“I don’t know, but no one else has run screaming to the authorities which are guarding this place, like the Dementors guard Azkaban.”

The rest of the morning and early afternoon had been spent with Harry looking for Malfoy, while the other two had spent their time telling him he had been mistaken. He knew he hadn’t. It had been Malfoy.

Of course there had been no luck with the Horcrux either.

TBC.


	2. Blue's Island (chapter 2)

**11 January, 1998, mid-morning, Blue’s Island, Galapagos Islands**

“Does anyone have any other ideas on where the Horcrux could be, because I’m stumped?” Harry said finally.

They were sitting in their usual clearing on what they had started calling “Blue’s Island”. It was where they came, together and individually, when they need to discuss things in private or when they just wanted to be alone and away from the others.

Blue, while maybe not the most stimulating of conversationalists, usually listened without much or any interruption. Patient he wasn’t always and had been known to simply fly away at times, almost in a huff. What prompted these abrupt departures wasn’t always clear.

At the mention of the word Horcrux, Harry noticed a change in Blue’s behaviour. He stopped whistling softly and bobbing his head, something he did when they spoke to him or around him. Harry had come to associate it with the bird feeling at ease. This time Blue lifted his head and pointed his beak toward the sky and let out a piercing whistle. He then lowered his head towards his chest and held it there. Abruptly he lifted his head again and turned and looked directly at the giant tortoise that they could see through the trees.

Blue flew over to the tortoise, landed on its back, then flew off again and came to land in front of Harry. This behaviour was repeated several times, and each time he’d look to Harry as if he expected some response.

“So what do you think Harry?” He heard Hermione ask.

“Think about what? I’m sorry, I was watching Blue. His behaviour is very odd.”

“I hadn’t mentioned it before, but it is rather unusual for it to be spending so much time on this island alone,” Hermione said nodding her head in the bird’s direction.

Harry started laughing at Blue and the bird in question looked, if possible, affronted by what she had just said. “Blue doesn’t seem to agree with you.”

“Blue-footed boobies are normally very social creatures. They live in large colonies where lots of mating and nesting takes place.”

At those words, the bird whistled dramatically and then turned and flew away, clearly unable to tolerate anything else she might have to say on the subject. This time, even Ron joined in the laughter.

Hermione herself let out a small huff and a smile. “Well it’s not normal.”

“So what were you asking me about?”

“We were discussing the Horcrux. Ron and I think we must have missed something on one of the other islands. Perhaps we need to go and check them again.”

Blue was back, and was actually more hop flying between the two than actual flying. As the tortoise grew closer Harry began to feel an irritation, a gnawing inside him. He wasn’t sure where it came from but he wanted to lash out, tell them they would only be wasting their time. The Horcrux wasn’t on any of the other islands. He hadn’t felt the pull of the Horcrux anywhere except…

He stopped. This feeling he was having, this irritation, like a piece of gravel stuck inside the toe of his shoe, this was a sign of a Horcrux. It was here.

But that wasn’t possible. Every inch of this island had been searched. He said nothing.

“It’s too late to do anything about it tonight. We can talk about it more tomorrow. We’re going back to the hotel and then for some supper. Are you coming with?” Hermione asked him.

He shook his head, no. He needed to think.

 

**12 January, 1998, 7:30 pm, Puerto Ayora, Santa Cruz Island, Galapagos Islands**

“I don’t know why we bothered to come to South America. We’re just wasting our time. We’re not having any more success finding what we need to find than we were at home. We still don’t know what we're looking for, and we don’t know where it is. At least there, we could know what was happening with everything and everyone else.”

“Ron. Don’t,” Hermione began.

“No, Hermione. It’s okay. I know how he feels. And if I wasn’t so sure that it was here, if I hadn't seen Voldemort traveling here myself, I’d say we should go home. It’s somewhere on these islands.”

“I’m not giving up and I’m not leaving again. I’m here for the duration, however long that takes. Is any one else besides me hungry?” Ron asked.

Hermione and Harry both agreed they could eat. The decision was make to go into town to their favourite seafood kiosk.

The weather was still pleasant as they walked from their hotel, the Estrella de Mar, to Calle de Kioskos, the outdoor stalls that served the best local and inexpensive dishes. The breeze coming up from the west across the Pacific cooled the temperature enough that Harry wished he’d worn longer sleeves.

As he waited his turn in line at Las Deliicias de Luzmilla he allowed his eyes to wander. And saw it, or him, rather. Standing about twenty feet away from them, also in line at another kiosk, was Draco Malfoy.

“Ron, Hermione. Quick, look, there he is again.” Harry grabbed Hermione’s elbow and forcibly turned her in the right direct.

“Harry! It is him! I’m so sorry I doubted you.”

Harry didn’t say it, but the ‘I told you’ was loud enough for others around them to feel it. Several of those standing in line turned to look in their direction.

“Blimey,” Ron said next to her. “That is Malfoy, or at least someone doing an exceptional job of pretending to be him. Look he’s even got the snooty attitude.”

Harry looked again. There was a bit of the old attitude. On an even closer look Malfoy just looked uncomfortable, more ill at ease than superior. Courteous and mannerly to others around him, friendly even to a certain extent, he still held himself apart from the rest.

“Let’s go get him,” Ron said sharply.

“No, wait! We need to move slowly. We don’t want to scare him off, or make a scene here. He’s very good at just vanishing,” Harry said quietly to the other two, remembering how Malfoy had just poofed into nothingness the previous times Harry had seen him. Avoiding another of those was top of Harry’s priorities. They needed to know what Malfoy was doing here when they just happened to be here as well. Coincidence? Harry thought not.

Hermione was again talking. “I can put a trace on him. If he vanishes again, we can follow him.”

Harry and Ron both looked at her and then at each other. Did she even know how to do that? This was Hermione. Of course she did.

“I’ve read about it. I’m sure I can.”

She raised her wand, surreptitiously of course, and the three of them turned to look in Malfoy’s direction. Just as they did, he lifted his head and looked directly at them. Eye contact was made.

The same expressions that had passed over Malfoy’s face when he had seen Harry the previous time in Machu Picchu were once again there. The look of startled surprise, followed by the smile, happy and joyous, only to be as quickly replaced with the look of one who was about to have their favourite toy taken from them. Such disappointment of the inevitable clear on his face. Then he disappeared, again. He was there and then he wasn’t.

“Fuck!” Ron said. “He’s gone again. There wasn’t enough time. Next time we need to make sure he doesn’t see us.”

“No, it’s okay. I think I got it.” Hermione said. “Did you see the look on his face? It was almost as if he was happy to see us. I wonder what that was about.”

The young mother of the two scrambling children that had been standing next to Draco jerked her head back, startled. Looking all around her, obviously looking for where he had gone. Then the little girl leaned over and took a bite of her older brother who slapped her in retaliation, and it was on. The young mother soon losing her interest in everything except the screaming brats.

Harry kept watching though. There. There it was. A look of befuddlement came over the face of the young mother, the two children, and all others that were in the vicinity. Someone had cast a memory charm. Harry looked around, but saw no one. Turning to Hermione he questioned, “Did you do that?”

She shook her head. “The _Obliviate_ No, that wasn’t me - someone else.”

“Come on. Let’s see if your trace really did work. Let’s go.” Ducking inside one of the small alleys that lined the main square with the various shops and food vendors, they Disapparated, following the lead of Hermione’s trace.

 

**12 January, 1998, 9pm, Blue’s Island, Galapagos Islands**

“Are you sure you put the trace on him correctly?” Ron questioned Hermione.

“Of course I did. I know how the put a trace on someone.” She glared at him.

“I’m sure you do, but still this makes no sense. He’s not here. We’ve looked everywhere.”

“I’m going to run the revealing spell, maybe he’s just hiding really well,” Harry said finally when he grew tired of the bickering on Hermione’s part and the groveling on Ron’s part.

Moments later, the spell having revealed no humans other than themselves anywhere on the island, he too could only think that somehow Hermione’s spell had gone wrong. It was an unusual thing, but that didn’t meant it wasn’t possible.

“Whatever,” he finally said. “I’m going to sit down and rest. We’ll move on a bit, go back to the hotel, after we stop and get something to eat. Oh, look its Blue.” He smiled as his favourite bird, after Hedwig, came strutting out from behind a shrub. The moon shone in the clearing highlighting the blue of the feet. Harry watched as the small bird headed in his direction.

The bird was walking in a most peculiar and extremely funny manner. First lifting one foot very high off the ground, presenting the bottom of his webbed and very blue foot first, and then lifting the other foot in the exact same way. It was almost as if the bird was marching or dancing in some bizarre way. Harry had never seen him do anything like this before.

Openly spreading his wings into a full wing span was only adding to the bizarreness of the dance. Harry was all but rolling on the ground with laughter. Hermione, on the other hand, was not laughing at all. Instead she had her ‘this is serious, you had better listen to me’ face on.

Ron appeared somewhere between the two. He was smiling, but not exactly laughing as Harry was.

“Harry,” Hermione spoke. He recognized that tone. She was about to tell him something he wasn’t going to want to hear.

“Yeah, what?” Grinning, he turned towards her. It felt so good to be able to laugh again.

“Do you know what he’s doing? Do you have any idea what this signifies?”

“No, but I’m pretty sure you’re going to tell me. Just, honestly, Hermione, if you’re going to tell me Blue’s getting ready to attack me, don’t. I don’t want to know, okay.”

“No, he’s not going to attack you. He’s asking you to be his mate. He’s romancing you.”

“What?” Harry quickly sat up and scooted backwards on his arse a few feet, before he turned towards her. “Are you insane? He’s a bird.”

“I know that Harry, but he’s exhibiting classic mating behavior for the Blue-Footed Booby. If this continues, he’ll soon be bringing you nesting material.”

Harry’s “how do you know this?” question was interrupted before he could ask it, by Ron’s loud and immediate guffawing.

Soon he too joined Harry on the ground, shaking with laughter, when Blue reached down and picked up a long piece of grass and added it to the other twigs and things he’d already placed in front of Harry. Suddenly Harry no longer found it that funny; instead he thought it strangely touching, if a bit odd.

Hermione tried, unsuccessfully Harry thought, to hide her smile.

 

**12 January overnight and 13 January 1998 early morning, Puerto Ayora, Santa Cruz Island, Galapagos Islands**

That evening Harry had a difficult time falling asleep. Although he was worn out, the stress and anxiety kept him awake.

They had all seen Malfoy. Even Ron admitted to seeing him. Harry was sure Hermione had performed the trace correctly. Malfoy must have felt it; he must have some way of blocking it or sending it in a different direction. There was no other explanation.

What was he doing here? Of all the places Malfoy could be and of all the people Harry had expected to come across in this part of the world. Malfoy.

But damned if he hadn’t looked good. The blond hair was longer and looked softer, freer even. It had blown gently around Malfoy’s face when Harry had seen him on Easter Island. The hat had controlled it in Machu Picchu, but the length of it had still caused it to curl at the nape of his neck.

A brief urge to run his teeth across that neck had Harry desperately trying to change the direction of his thoughts.

Malfoy’s customary stiffness had relaxed into an easy grace. His posture was still superb, but like his hair there was a freeness to it as well. Briefly Harry wondered what it would feel like to bend Malfoy over the back of a sofa and –

What the fuck was wrong with him? He needed a wank. It was as simple as that, yet somehow the vision of Ginny that he held in his mind when he began morphed into a striking blond male before Harry reached his climax.

That was the only explanation he could reach for the dreams he had that night. Draco Malfoy was everywhere in the dreams. Wherever Harry looked, the blond Slytherin git was there. Silent. Never speaking, just looking at Harry as if he wanted answers and expected Harry to have them.

Impeccably dressed as always, except for the strangest thing. Malfoy had on electric blue trainers. High-tops at that, which, well really, did nothing to enhance the rest of the fashion ensembles Malfoy wore. Not the Slytherin green robes, or the charcoal grey double breasted Muggle style suit, or even the pale rose skin tight t-shirt and the deep chocolate brown leather trousers.

The last should have made Malfoy look like a pouf. Instead it made Harry want to kneel before him and worship his cock with his mouth until Malfoy pulled Harry’s hair out by the root as he came down Harry’s throat.

Wisely, Harry chose not to share that last bit with his friends over their breakfast the next morning.

“Harry?” Hermione spoke thoughtfully. “Did you say Malfoy had blue trainers on with each outfit and in each scene of your dreams?”

Harry nodded.

“Bright blue, electric blue? As in the same colour of blue as the feet of “Blue”?”

He stopped eating and lifted his head to look at her. _What? Holy fuck! She was right. It was him. It had to be!_

“Merlin. It’s him,” he said out loud, even if it was just a whisper.

“It’s who?” Ron questioned.

“Draco – blue trainers – the trace – there's no Draco - just “Blue” with blue feet. Come on Ron, put it together.”

Ron’s eyes grew almost as big around as the eggs on his plate. Then he started laughing. “That’s brilliant. Malfoy is a bird, a bird with big blue feet. But wait. We saw Malfoy; we all did. When and how does he change? Do you think he’s an Animagus?

“As what, a no-see-um? He doesn’t turn into anything, he just vanishes.”

“We’re going back to Blue’s Island, and we are not leaving until Malfoy shows up. Or until we grow old and grey whichever comes first.” Harry said emphatically as he stood and tossed some coins on the table for their meal and a few more for tip. The thought of being close enough to Malfoy to touch made him feel strangely generous -- a fact he would have denied to his dying day if questioned.

Hermione and Ron nodded and stood as well, Ron stuffing one last sausage into his mouth as he did.

“The two of you don’t have to stay the whole time. You can come back to the hotel, but I’ll be camping there. I have to be there when he returns."

“Once again, you just don’t understand. We aren’t leaving you. If you camp, we camp,” Hermione said as she entered into her room to pack.

Ron, unfortunately had his stuff scattered between the two rooms, but as they traveled light, it wasn’t a major setback. Less than an hour later the three of them Apparated onto Blue’s Island. They went to the clearing where Blue and the giant tortoise preferred to be. Ron had begun calling the tortoise Lonesome George when Hermione had read him the story of the real one. He’d said that without the bird, Blue, that this tortoise could be just as lonely.

Ron and Harry began setting up camp, while Hermione went to take care of the Muggle paperwork and pay for the privilege. There was a brief discussion about protection spells. Ron thought they should have them. Harry pointed out that then neither Malfoy nor Blue would be able to enter, and then what was the point. Hermione cast the tie-breaker vote in Harry’s favour.

As she spoke, into the clearing strutted Blue, “Well look who’s here?” Harry nodded at the bird.

“Look Malfoy, we know it’s you. Don’t know how you do it, or when you’ll be changing back. We’re not leaving until you do. We need to speak to you,” Harry said as he sat on the ground in front of the bird.

Blue for his part looked at Harry as he always did; sort of interested and sort of unsure. A slight bob of the head at the word ‘Malfoy’, but other than that there was no change.

Ron sat down beside Harry and they stared at Blue. The bird stared back.

“Do you think he knows that he’s Malfoy? You know, when he’s the bird. Does he know there’s a person in him?” Ron asked.

“I’ve no idea. He did respond to us in a really quick and, according to Hermione, unusual way,” Harry answered.

“Yeah and don’t forget the whole mating dance.” Ron laughed and Harry joined him.

“That was just strange. I mean, even if he does know Malfoy’s in there, why me? We hate each other.”

“Maybe Blue doesn’t know that.”

As they spoke Blue’s head moved back and forth between them, jumping suddenly as Hermione Apparated almost directly on top of him. Even she had to look chagrined at the look of disdain Blue gave her as he stepped out of harm's way.

The rest of the day passed, interminably slow. Harry refused to leave the area. “I told you, I’m not taking any chances.”

Hermione and Ron, both afraid to leave him alone in case Malfoy returned would not leave either, at least not both at the same time.

“Don’t worry. I’ll be fine. Blue always appears glad to see me, and don’t forget how Malfoy looked when he saw us at Las Dellicias de Luzmilla. He didn’t look like he’d want to hex anyone. Besides, I still have this,” he pulled out his wand, “and I remember how to use it.”

Blue suddenly looked very interested in the wand.

“Harry. Quick. Put it away.” Hermione demanded.

“Well, if that isn’t confirmation that this is Malfoy, I don’t know what is.”

 

**14 January, 1998, evening, Blue’s Island, Galapagos Islands**

The evening and night passed without incident, as did the next day.

Hermione went to town to pick up books on folk-tales and legends of the area, and to get some dried fruit and yoghurt for their breakfast, while Ron and Harry played a knock-off version of Exploding Snap, minus the explosions.

Later that afternoon Ron went to bring back take-away, something with more substance than breakfast he’d said as he left. Hermione remained engrossed in her new books, while Harry took the time to nap in the afternoon sun. It had been a long time since he’d been able to nap quite this often.

The sun was warm on his skin; a slight breeze ruffled his hair. As he nodded off, he imagined there was a person who was lightly running their fingers through his hair. Gripping his head as they pulled him in for a kiss, or more. He was no longer surprised when red haired curvy Ginny became skinny blond Malfoy. Understand it, no, but it didn’t surprise him.

And Blue? Well Blue was always there. Next to Harry, standing across from Harry, up close and personal to Harry as he played Exploding Snap with Ron. When the explosions did not occur, he looked confused. Harry explained that there was a little shock that occurred, not an explosion, to keep it secret from the Muggles. Harry wasn’t sure if Blue understood or not, but there were no more surprised looks after that. And at night when Harry curled up on the ground, transfigured to be soft but still to outside appearances hard ground, Blue assisted Harry, brought nesting materials over and settled down to sleep next to him. It was as if he too wanted to be near Harry, when the time came.

It was early to go to sleep, but Harry wanted to be alone so he feigned tiredness and went to his sleeping place. Ron and Hermione were talking and laughing in the background. Slowly their voices became whispers and then even that became barely audible. He was pleased yet envious that even here they were managing to spend quality time together. More tired than he’d realized, he began to drift towards sleep. Just as he drifted off, a lovely dream came to him. A dream with a warm body pressed close to him. Something woke him and, emerging from his deep dream state, he could still feel the warm body next to him which was strange, as he and Ginny had never actually slept together. Sure they had ‘slept’ together, but not like this. This was nice, he felt comforted. And aroused. Definitely aroused.

“Potter. You might want to watch where you’re aiming that.” A voice from the past spoke, a voice Harry was both terrified and thrilled to hear. He opened his eyes. It was night and it was dark, but there was enough moonlight to see and Harry would recognize the smirking face of Draco Malfoy in any environment.

He yelped and backed away as quick as he could, doing a bit of a crab crawl as he did.

Malfoy just lay there and watched him, amusement on his face.

“What? Where did you come from?”

Malfoy looked at him and shook his head, again amusement the dominant expression. “Haven’t you been waiting for me to change? I know my memory and awareness of what happens when I’m the bird is spotty at best. But I know you’ve been here.” He waved his hand to include the area, ”and I distinctly recall you refusing to leave.” He shrugged and then came to a sitting position. “So here I am.”

Their conversation had woken Ron and Hermione who rolled out of their shared sleeping bag and came to stand next to them.

“So, the two of you finally decided to make it official. For Merlin’s sake, it’s about time.” Draco said, giving a thumbs up to Ron.

Hermione made tea and Ron stood guard, not trusting Malfoy in the slightest, while Harry and Malfoy talked. Or Harry attempted to talk, Malfoy just kept saying he only had a short amount of time and he was dying for the octopus ceviche they served at the El Bongo bar and café, and his favourite beverage to serve with it, a _cerveza._ He wasn’t going to explain anything until he was able to indulge, but promised he would reveal everything he knew at that time. “It was, complicated,” was all he would give them.

“Oh, and Weasley, I have a wand as well. I don’t plan on using it, but I can if I must.” He grabbed Harry’s wrist and looked at his watch. “At least I can still use it for the next 5 hours and 35 minutes.” If he held on to Harry’s wrist a bit longer than absolutely necessary, neither of them chose to acknowledge it.

 

**14 January, 1998, late evening to 15 January, early morning, Puerto Ayoro, Santa Cruz Island, Galapagos Islands**

Harry, Ron, and Hermione stood at the counter waiting to place their order. Draco had managed to grab a table for the four of them. It was outside and the noise from the others on the street, both locals and tourist, should be enough to keep their conversation private.

“What was it Malfoy said he wanted again?” Ron asked as the busy barkeep finally made it to him.

“Something called a Tecate? I think.”

“Oh and he wants it with extra lime and salt on the rim. He said that should be the way they serve it normally, but they may ask just to be sure,” Hermione added.

She and Harry carried their drinks as well as four servings of ceviche to the table, only one octopus one, however, the other three choosing to stick with the more common shrimp ones. Ron followed with his and Malfoy’s drinks and a large basket of banana chips. The El Bongo bar was famous for their banana chips. Harry wasn’t sure if that was more for the quality or the quantity, as the basket was overflowing when Ron placed it on the table.

Ron shrugged sheepishly at Malfoy’s raised eyebrow when Ron placed a beverage looking suspiciously like the one Malfoy had ordered, in front of his own place. “I didn’t know what else to get, thought I’d try this, besides if it’s not any good…”

“You’ll what? Try something different.” Malfoy laughed as he squeezed two of the lime slices into the beverage. He drank deeply and sighed with contentment.

Ron followed suite and had almost the exact same reaction, only his was more a surprised smile than a contented sigh.

“Why are you here?” Harry asked between bites.

“You invited me. Don’t you remember?”

”I meant here in the Galapagos Islands.” Harry sighed, exasperated.

“I was exiled.”

“Why? What did you do, or not do?

“I didn’t complete a task I’d been given.”

“You mean, not killing Dumbledore.”

Malfoy drew back, surprise on his face. “How did you know about that?”

“I was there. On the astronomy tower, immobilized and hidden. I saw.”

Malfoy looked like he wanted to ask more, but must have thought this wasn’t the time, or place. “Well, yes then, that was it. Plus, he was very disappointed with my father and mother as well.”

“Your parents? What did they do?”

“My father allowed you to destroy the diary. The Dark Lord was not aware it was no longer in our possession, he was most assuredly not aware it was no longer intact, until recently. When questioned, my father had to admit he had slipped it into Ginny Weasley’s bag and that you had somehow destroyed it.”

Harry could feel Ron’s anger from across the table, remembering what almost happened to his sister. Draco probably felt it as well, as he turned pale and scooted his chair a few extra inches away.

Hermione laid a comforting hand on Ron. “What about your mother?”

“She had Snape step in and take care of the job the Dark Lord had assigned to me. He felt she molly-coddled me too much.”

If that was molly-coddling, Harry wondered what it was Molly Weasley did for her children.

“He felt I needed to be away from them and away from him. Seemed to think it would make me more anxious to please him in the future. It would have, if he’d have allowed me to return after only a few weeks. It’s been months. I’ve had a lot of time to think, too much time really.”

“How long have you been here?”

“Since the day before school was scheduled to begin this year. I had already decided I wasn’t going to return. My parents were unhappy, but the Dark Lord had agreed with me. I was so pleased, until I learned why. I was being exiled. He had Snape take me away. Voldemort trusts him, although I doubt that’s a wise choice on his part.”

Harry harangued, Snape was an arse and everyone knew it.

Malfoy continued speaking, ignoring Harry’s reaction. “He instructed Professor Snape to tell no one where I was - not even him. I wasn’t worth cluttering up his mind with.”

Even now, Harry could feel how much that had hurt Malfoy. To be so easily dismissed and tossed aside.

“Snape brought me here, to the Galapagos Islands. Why I don’t know, but he said I would be safe here. A promise he had made to my mother. To further ensure my safety he set the spell for the Transfiguration, explaining as he did about the forty-nine/seven rule. Other aspects of the spell, he failed to mention. I learned them on my own, the hard way. “

“When will you go home?”

“Whenever Snape thinks it’s safe. When Lord Voldemort is no longer disappointed in me.”

“You know, he’s Headmaster of Hogwarts now,” Harry said, not sure why he felt the need to say that.

“Who? The Dark Lord?” Draco gaped in dismay.

“No, Snape.”

“Is he? Well how about that. I wonder how he feels about that. You know, I think, he actually admired that old goat, Dumbledore. Oh please, don’t start,” he said as Harry began to protest. “I know you admired him greatly. Thought he was second only to treacle tart. Not everyone felt the same.”

“What will you do, when Snape returns for you?”

“No idea. Don’t know that I’ll really have much choice. It’s his spell.”

“You mentioned something about a forty-nine/seven spell. Can you explain that more?” Hermione wanted to know.

“It all has to do with some magical meaning to the number seven,” Draco began. At their looks of perplexity he scowled. “I can understand Potter not know what I’m talking about. He’s an idiot.”

“Hey,” Harry interrupted. The uneasy feeling of that rose in him whenever Malfoy was around was becoming too prevalent. It wasn’t Malfoy that made him uneasy, however. It was his own worry for how Malfoy reacted to him. His opinion of Harry was starting to matter, and Harry had no idea why. It had never been a concern before. Why now?

Draco frowned at the interruption, but continued on as if it had never occurred. “Now Weasley, I realize that it’s sometimes hard for you to comprehend and value wizarding traditions. But you’re a pure-blood wizard, should know about this. After all, your parents had seven children. Too bad Ginny wasn’t a male she’d be exceptionally powerful, seventh son and all that. I don’t suppose your dad was the seventh son born in his family, was he?” Ron shook his head no. “Oh well, on second thought; it’s probably a good thing she’s not. She’s scary enough as it is.”

Harry started to take umbrage at this, that was his girlfriend Malfoy was putting down, then thought better of it. A more powerful Ginny would be a slightly terrifying thing. A quick look at Ron and it was obvious he was thinking the same thing.

“Granger, I am really surprised at you. With all your studying of magical ways and means, I can’t believe you’ve not learned about the magic of seven.”

“Since we’re all idiots, why don’t you explain it to us?” Harry finally snapped. “Me? I don’t know anything about it other than what Snape told me just before he cast the spell.”

“Then what’s with all the lectures about us not knowing?” Harry shook his head, puzzled. “Tell us what you do know.”

“Just before Snape completed the spell that transfigured me he explained or rather he gave me the guidelines. For forty-nine hours, which for the more mathematically challenged of you is seven times seven, I remain in transfigured state. Then on the forty-ninth hour I change to Draco, or human. I remain in my original form for next seven hours. Then I transform back to the transfigured state, or Blue, as you lot refer to me. The process remains on a continual loop every fifty-six hours until either time ends, I die, or Snape releases the spell-- whichever comes first.”

“What about clothes? Are you naked when you become human again?” Ron asked. Harry was glad he had because he was wondering the same thing. Animagi seemed to take their clothes with them, but the artificially transfigured he wasn’t sure about. Hermione seemed to think it a ridiculous question. Harry didn’t agree. He thought it was a damn good question.

Malfoy laughed. A warm and surprisingly wonderful laugh that made Harry’s insides turn the tiniest bit mushy. “No, that wasn’t a problem. Professor Snape made sure that the spell was fixed so that I was always properly clothed. Initially the clothing followed the general colouring of the Blue-footed Booby, except for the shoes. I draw the line at blue shoes. I now change the clothing to fit the occasion or location I’m visiting.”

Harry smiled, remembering his dream. Malfoy in blue trainers was wickedly funny. And surprisingly enticing.

“No, the problem is I don’t always know when the time to transfigure is near. Time and memory play havoc with you while you’re in the transfigured shape. You start thinking and feeling and being the creature you’re changed into. The human side of you starts to get lost. The first hour or so is always spent re-acclimating.”

“That must be…” Hermione began and then stopped.

Ron nodded sagely, agreeing with Hermione. “Yeah mate, that’s…”

Which completely discombobulated Malfoy. Harry too, if he was completely honest.

“Why haven’t you returned home? When you’re Draco, not Blue,” Harry had to ask.

“Can’t. Snape made sure I can never go north of the equator until he releases me. I’ve tried, even tried to cross the equator line here on the islands. I can’t do it. I’m blocked. It’s like there’s a giant ward up. I can go anywhere on this continent as long as its south of the equator, but nowhere else.”

“What happens if you transform to the bird while you’re out sightseeing? How do you find your way back?” This time it was Hermione’s turn to question. Harry could see her brain absorbing the fascinating information like a sponge.

“Can’t happen; it’s another twist of the spell. It’s set to transport me back to the location where Professor Snape first executed the spell. At six hours and fifty five minutes into the Draco phase, I’m whisked back to the island, for next Blue phase.”

“So that’s why you suddenly just vanished each of those times,” Harry said, pleased to have an explanation.

Malfoy nodded.

“And why you always looked so disappointed.” Harry was beginning to really understand.

“But how do those around you, the Muggles, react when you just vanish like that?” It was Hermione’s turn again it seemed.

“I’ve no idea, but it hasn’t been a problem. My guess is there’s a built in memory charm in the spell. Every other potential problem is covered.”

“That would explain the obvious memory-wiped looks we saw on the faces of those at Machu Picchu,” Ron said looking at Harry and Hermione.

TBC


	3. Chapter 3

**15 January, 1998, early, early morning, Blue’s Island, Galapagos Islands**

Watching the setting sun had always made Harry melancholy. Perhaps it was how it signified the ending of things. Watching the moon set felt much the same. Something he hadn’t known previously, but there it was. It too felt like the ending of things. He felt the darkness of the night closing in on him, and the weight of what he still had to do press down on his spirit as well. Sunrise was still a few hours away, but the stars were out. Harry did not think he’d ever seen so many stars. It was at times like these he regretted not paying more attention in Astronomy lessons.

Malfoy sat beside him, still and silent. He too seemed caught up in the melancholy of the darkness. Harry wondered if he knew how much time there was before the charm to transfigure him would activate again.

“So, seriously, Malfoy, how are you? I mean how do you feel about all this?”

Those were not the questions Harry had intended to ask, but they were the ones that slipped from his mouth. Somehow these seemed more important than how long before the change was due. It had to be soon. Already over five, more like five and a half hours, had passed.

“Seriously, Potter.” Malfoy started speaking with the slightest hint of teasing in his voice. “I’m terrified. Or rather I was terrified; now I’m just scared and frustrated. And stoic, let’s not forget stoic. There’s nothing I can do to change things. I can’t go home. I can’t help my family. I’ve no idea what’s going on even if I did…” The talking stopped and Harry felt the rise and fall of his shoulders next to him.

During the time Malfoy had been talking Harry had been looking out over the gathering, deepening darkness, not at Malfoy.

“It’s the reason I felt truly glad to see you. I mean, it has to be. The three of you are the bane of wizarding society. At least that’s what I used to think. Maybe I’ve changed more than I thought. But the first time when I saw you at Easter Island, I felt such a sense of relief. Finally there was someone I knew, even if it was you, but I held it in. I thought it could have been a mistake, maybe I’d only imagined you. Only why, of all the people I’ve known, it was you, Potter, which I’d imagine seeing, was beyond me.”

Harry let out a bark of laughter and nudged Malfoy lightly with his elbow. “I was wondering if you’d seen me at Easter Island. I wasn’t sure if it was you either. Thought maybe I’d dreamed you as well. I never mentioned it to Ron and Hermione about it, until after I saw you again at Machu Picchu.”

The saying that the darkest hour is always just before the dawn was apparently based on fact. They watched the sky get darker and darker. It would be a couple of hours before the sun rose. He wondered again how much time was left before Draco’s change was due.

“Ron and I were wondering what you were up to. You know, being so friendly to us.” It needed to be said, and Harry was not one to leave something that needed doing, undone. Well, okay, maybe he was sometimes, but not this time.

To his surprise Malfoy laughed a genuine laugh. It had a pleasant sound. “I can see why that was cause for concern. As I told you I was just so glad to see someone from home. And!” he said with emphasis, “to see and be able to talk to them while I was in my natural state. Speaking of the change, it should be coming soon. It’s getting late, I know.”

“I wanted to find out more about this…” Harry waved his arms, not sure how to finish. “You know, as strange as this is going to sound, I think I’m going to miss you.”

“You’ve only got 49 hours to wait before I’ll be back. Besides you still have ‘Blue’. I love that you named him, I mean me,” Draco spoke softly. “Blue likes it as well. Blue likes you. There’s not a lot I can remember from my time as Blue. It fades so fast, scarily fast, but I do know he very much wants me to do this.”

“Do what?” Harry questioned, turning for the first time in Malfoy’s direction as he spoke. Malfoy’s hand gripped his shoulders, firm but gentle and before Harry could understand or react to what was happening, he kissed him. It was a simple kiss, nothing memorable about it at all, but Harry knew he’d remember it for the rest of his life. Before he could even begin to understand, Draco pulled away.

“That was from Blue.”

“Ermm.” Harry didn’t want to talk. He wanted Malfoy to kiss him again.

Draco scowled and his eyes grew big and then he grimaced. “Oh Fuck,” was all he said before he vanished. Malfoy was gone. The seven hours had ended. Now Harry just had to wait 49 hours before he could get that second kiss.

Moments later there were the barely discernible sounds of wings beating. Blue landed next to him and proceeded to strut back and forth in front of him. Now that he knew, Harry wondered how they had missed the Malfoy-like mannerism of the bird.

After Draco’s transformation Hermione and Ron went back to the hotel, choosing logically to sleep on large, soft beds instead of the hard ground and tiny sleeping bags. Even with the use of magic the hotel won out. Harry decided to stay on the island. Each night as before he curled up in his sleeping bag, he and Blue pulled nesting materials together and made a small nest for Blue to sleep next to Harry.

 

**17 January, 1998, early morning, Puerto Ayora, Santa Cruz Island, Galapagos Islands**

“Were you on the island when it happened?” Hermione asked softly.

Draco nodded, wiping at the condensation that had gathered on the table from the glass of guava juice in front of him. The latest transformation from Blue to Draco had occurred at 5am. Hungry as usual, they had come into town for an early morning breakfast.

“As Blue or Draco?” she further questioned.

“Both.”

“I don’t understand. Explain.” Harry interrupted.

“I was Blue; then I was Draco. Seems pretty easy to understand to me,” Draco snapped.

Harry watched his throat work as Malfoy took a long swallow of the juice.

The others seemed to understand there was more. They waited for Malfoy to finish. Finally, Harry said, “Sorry, okay. Can you please tell us what happened?”

“Well since you apologized and asked so nicely.” Another deep drink, Harry was lost in the motions as Malfoy swallowed the beverage. Confused was too simple a word for what Harry was currently feeling.

“I was there, on the island, as Blue. By this time I’d, or rather he’d, figured out how to keep track of when to expect the change to Draco. That had actually taken a while and I came close to drowning a few times before that happened, not to mention the time I almost concussed myself.”

“Concussed yourself, how did you do that?” Ron question as he reached across the table for another handful of banana chips the restaurant kept in steady supply. He’d become strangely addicted to them since they’d arrived in the islands. Harry found them to be almost inedible, especially before lunch time.

“That’s a story for another time. I need to explain what happened, and then we need to go back to the island. There’s something we’ll need to do.”

Harry, Ron, and Hermione all looked at one another and shrugged.

“I need to go to the ladies,” Hermione said standing.

Draco reached out and grabbed her wrist. “Wait. Please. I don’t want to have to say this but once and you’ll need to hear it.”

She nodded and sat back down.

Malfoy closed his eyes and allowed his features to go carefully flat. Interesting, Harry thought. He’d always thought Malfoy’s expressions were flat before. Now, he realized how wrong he had been.

“First you have to understand. There’s a disconnection in the memory between Blue and myself. Some things come across and I can remember those fine, other things I can barely remember at all, and then there are the memories that come through in snatches of clarity. The same applies in the opposite direction. Blue knows some things I do, but not all. I can’t guarantee what I remember is what actually happened.”

He nodded towards Harry. “Blue recognized you, right away, from my memories the first time he saw you. Ron and Hermione on the other hand had no meaning to him.”

Harry felt a strange and bizarre sense of happiness at those words.

Hermione nodded at Draco. “That makes sense; the two of you have always been very attuned to one another.”

“Hermione!” he shouted, feeling his face heat.

Draco’s was almost as pink as Harry was sure his was.

“Oh, I didn’t mean it that way.” She laughed. Then seeing their blushing faces she suddenly grabbed her Pisco Sour and finished it in one gulp. The result was too much and too fast. Several seconds passed before she got her coughing under control

Able to speak again she said, “I’m sorry Draco, please go ahead.”

“I was Blue, but I knew it was close to time. Suddenly there was a noise, like a crack of something breaking. It was a noise I knew, but Blue did not. It startled him. I can’t recall the exact order of events or even what events actually took place. Blue must have gone to investigate the noise, I don’t know.”

He reached up to wipe the perspiration that had beaded on his forehead. Harry looked around; none of the other patrons were affected by the heat. Harry was quite comfortable himself.

“And there he was. The Dark Lord. Blue of course, had never seen him, but he recognized him from me. I knew him at once. At first I was happy, thought maybe I’d been forgiven and he had come to reclaim me. Then the memories of all I’d seen and heard during the time he lived in the Manor returned. The Dark Lord never forgave anyone for anything he considered a failing.

As you know Blue is, or can be very inquisitive. He started to approach, but somehow, and I don’t understand how, I, Draco was able to stop him from going too close.”

“Did he see him?” Hermione gasped.

Draco nodded. “Yes, but only for a moment. I was able to get Blue to fly a short distance away. The Dark Lord did see him, me, ermm, us for just a brief period. I was terrified the whole time. What if he somehow knew it was me underneath? What if I changed in front of him?”

“But I thought you were a big fan of his,” Ron interrupted.

Malfoy shrugged. “People learn. People change. Being exiled to a location six thousand plus miles from home can give one a different perspective on things. And as I just said, I knew the Dark Lord never forgave. If he was here for me, it was to kill me.”

Harry accepted that.

“Besides, I knew by then, he was bat-shit crazy. He saw Blue, made some comment about the blue feet, of course. Everyone does, which is surprising considering that blue-footed boobies are a sixpence a dozen in these parts. I knew it was possible I’d change in flight, but somehow I was able to convince Blue that it was vital to leave.”

“It was only a few metres, but it was well out of his sight I felt I’d be safe. By then it was obvious he was looking for something, but what was unclear. Then…” Malfoy muttered something, which Harry didn’t understand. It had sounded like “Goyle”, but surely that wasn’t right.

“I’m sorry, what did you just say?” Ron asked. So Harry wasn’t the only one who hadn’t understood.

“I said. Then the tortoise came along, and the Dark Lord looked very pleased. That was what he’d been looking for, only I didn’t know why.” Draco’s hands were shaking; to stop them he put each of them under his thighs and sat.

They waited patiently for the rest of the story. Several minutes passed and still Malfoy said nothing. Though, he had stopped trembling enough to finish his beer.

“Well fuck, Malfoy, what happened next?” Harry finally spit out, exasperated.

“I have no idea. I don’t remember. Remember I just told you that the memory between Blue and myself is spotty. This is one of those missing memories. Eventually I did change to myself, just moments before the Dark Lord Apparated out. I was still well hidden. I know he didn’t see me, otherwise I’m sure I’d be dead.”

 _Fuck, fuck, fuck._ Draco had been there, but he didn’t remember. Without his memories, Draco could tell them nothing. They were no closer to an answer than they had been.

“But.” Draco interrupted Harry’s internal rant of doom and frustration. “I did retain the memory of what Blue had seen long enough to know I needed to store the memory somewhere. I knew I would need it again, but even then it was starting to leave me. You know, like a dream that is so clear when you first wake, but immediately you start to lose it. Soon there’s nothing left but a feeling that the memory of it could be potentially life changing. That’s how this felt. I knew that I’d lose it if I didn’t do something to save it. I made a memory of it and found a place to store it.”

“Oh my God! That’s terrific. Where is it?” Harry jumped up. “When can we see it?”

“Sit down Potter. There’s more. Not a lot more, but it does have an effect on seeing those memories.”

Harry sat and waited and waited.

“I don’t know where it is.” Malfoy finally admitted. “There are not a lot of containers for memory storage on the island. You have to improvise. I don’t know what I used, and more importantly, I don’t remember where I hid it. That’s why I need your help, Granger.”

“Of course, but what can I do?”

“There is a potion that can help one remember things. Small things like where you left something, or someone’s name, or the ingredients for a very simple potion. But the potion is only short term; its effects are not very lasting.”

“And you want me to make this potion? Why can’t you make it yourself? Not that I mind doing it,” she clarified. “How complicated is it? Where do I get the ingredients?” Hermione as usual was off to the races with her questions.

“It’s only three ingredients, none of which are impossible to find, but one can be a bit tricky to retrieve. The main reason I can’t do it is it takes eight hours to brew and a very calm hand. Obviously, due to the time restraints, I can’t do it myself.”

“What are the ingredients?”

He named off two ingredients which Harry had never heard of, but Hermione seemed to know what they were. She didn’t seem to feel there was a problem with obtaining them either. The third ingredient, which surprisingly Harry did know, was the one that caused Hermione the most distress. Mandrake.

“Where do I find them?”

“There a mangrove swamp where they grow along the northern coast of Ecuador. You should be able to find some there. You’ll need to watch out for Dugbugs though. Mandrakes were over harvested from there a few years ago. The Dugbugs became very protective of them. They’ll be lethal when you go.”

 

**17 January, 1998, late morning, Blue’s Island, Galapagos Islands**

“Is the plan still for the three of you to go to Muisne?” Draco questioned. The two of them sat on the beach waiting for Draco’s next change. Covered in sunscreen he still wore a long sleeved thin cotton shirt and his Machu Picchu hat. With his fair skin, there was still a chance even with all that he could still burn.

“Why don’t you use a spell? You’ve still got your wand,” Harry asked as Malfoy slathered on sun screen as well as a thick coating of lip balm to fight against the wind as well as the sun.

“I use both, neither one alone is enough protection for skin like mine.” He turned and eyed Harry up and down, “But you’re getting a nice bit of colour there, no longer the pale and pasty poster child of the wannabe saviors. It looks good on you.”

Harry grew warm at the compliment, even as backhanded as it had been. “Yes we’re going to the mangrove swamp, see if we can find and bring back the mandrake. Hermione will need to get started on that potion. We want it ready and waiting for when you’re ready. It feels we’ve wasted enough time already.”

“If I knew a way to keep the change from happening every 49 hours, I’d sure be glad to use it. But I don’t. I don’t suppose Granger’s come up with anything useful on that, has she? Oh look here come the Gryffindors,” Malfoy said excitedly and completely changing the subject.

“What?” The Gryffindors?” Completely confused, Harry looked up to see a large number of the black winged, almost purple, frigates that were so popular on the island. _Why did Draco call them the Gryffindors?_ Then he glimpsed the bright scarlet sacs on their chest. “I suppose they’re the Gryffindors because of the red sacks.”

“Got it in one.” Malfoy turned and smirked at him. “There’s this really obnoxious one, has the huge gular sack, he likes to strut around like he’s the gift to the world. Guess what I call that one?”

Harry ignored him, choosing not to rise to the bait. It was all he could do to keep from rolling his eyes.

“Come on, Potter, you can guess what it is. You know, Potter, I’m sure if you think hard, you’ll be able to figure it out, Potter. Right, Potter? Oh come on, you’re no fun. It’s Potter! I call him Potter, because he reminds so much of you.” Draco started laughing, Harry didn’t find it all that funny but Draco kept laughing and every time he looked at Harry, who was keeping a straight face, he laughed some more.

“Whew, that felt good. I’ve not laughed like that since, well, a really long time.” Malfoy began to lose his silliness and Harry found that made him sad.

“When Snape left me here, I was so scared. I didn’t know what was happening to me. I knew, but I didn’t really understand it. As I think I may have mentioned, honestly don’t remember. I was too afraid to go off island for the longest time, as either the bird or Draco. If it hadn’t of been for hunger, I’m not sure I would have. But eventually Blue, as you like to call him, got hungry and went to the sea. Once he started flying he seemed to know what it was he needed to do.”

“What about Draco? Did he get hungry eventually?”

“He did and he went and found pizza. Wonderful stuff, pizza. Have you had it before?”

Malfoy being excited over pizza was a foreign concept in Harry’s mind. “Yeah, I’ve had pizza. Every person under the age of eighty has had pizza.’

“Well pardon me; I hadn’t had the opportunity before now.” Malfoy’s voice took on that tone.

Harry could feel the chill rolling off him. _Well, I just fucked that up._ He needed to fix this. “Malfoy, I’m sorry. I’m glad you liked your first pizza.”

Draco was so quiet for so long, Harry feared he would not be forgiven for what Malfoy would see as a criticism.

“While I was here on the island I made other friends, or rather Blue did, or rather I don’t know if they’re really what you’d call friends. I mean we couldn’t talk to one another and it’s not like you could get invited to tea or anything, or out for a pint, but well you know, they were still friends, you know.”

“Malfoy. You’re rambling.”

“Am I? I don’t think I was, I was just telling you...”

“Yeah, about your friends, who weren’t really your friends, but were more Blue’s friends, except they couldn’t really be called friends, because well you couldn’t very well--”

“Stop!” Draco shouted with laughter. “My heavens Potter, you’re…”

“Rambling. Yes, I know. So why don’t you tell me about these _acquaintances,_ " he said with air quotations. “You might want to be quick though. Your times almost up.”

“There’s Goyle,” he said as he pointed at the giant tortoise that was almost always nearby.

Harry turned and stared at him. “Goyle?”

“He’s slow and cumbersome, but can flat out move when he’s perturbed, much like his name-sake. The Gryffindors you’ve already met. Then there are the Weasleys.”

“The Weasley’s, okay which ones are they?”

“The big ugly lizards that look like prehistoric monsters. Only smaller.”

“The iguanas? They don’t look anything like the Weasley’s.” Harry laughed wondering if he should be offended for his girlfriend and best mate.

“Oh I know. There’s just so many of them. Everywhere you look there are more of them. Just made me think of the over populated lot of gingers we had at Hogwarts.”

“There seems to be an awful lot of small birds running around with bright blue feet as well. Why didn’t you call them Weasleys?” Harry laughed.

Draco pulled back and looked at Harry with utter shock on his face, laughter in his eyes. “I am of the proud and noble blue-footed booby family. Putting myself in the same category as something referred to as Weasley, even in joking, is not acceptable. Please do not insult my new part-time heritage in that manner again.”

“I thought you and Ron were getting along.”

“Weasley and I are tolerating each other, and no, he’s not as bad as I had thought he would be, but I still don’t want to be a Weasley.”

Draco had been mostly smiling and laughing. As Harry watched, Draco’s face became more and more reflective. He could see the discouragement and discontent rolling in, like clouds before the storm.

“I just want to be a Malfoy. That’s all I’ve ever wanted. But it does me no good to think about that here. No one here either knows or cares who the Malfoys are.

More time must have passed than Harry had realized as Draco’s face took on the now recognizable expression of “oh fuck” and he was whisked away.

Harry waited for over an hour sitting in the same place. Blue did not return. Depressed and feeling very alone, Harry returned to the hotel. They had an early start planned for the morning.

 

**19 January, 1998, afternoon and evening, Blue’s Island, Galapagos Islands**

Under some underbrush and a scattering of leaves was a small vial. It was plastic and very cheaply made, but it could have sufficed. It was also green and easily hidden.

“Could that be it?” Harry asked.

Draco shrugged. “I think it is, but I’m not sure. I sort of remember this place, and this is where the memory potion led me. It’s sort of small though, isn’t it?”

It was; Harry could not dispute that. About half the size of a normal vial that was most often used to store memories for a Pensieve. There didn’t appear to be a cap to it either, but someone had stuffed the opening with mud, which had dried to adobe brick hardness.

As Harry reached down to pick it up, the leaves that were scattered around it fell to the side. There in the open space was a small area roughly twelve to sixteen inches in diameter, surrounded by loose volcanic rocks and small gravel. Bubbling up, from a source underneath it, was clear clean water. Obviously an underground spring, it could be the perfect make-do Pensieve.

“I think I know why you hid it here. Look.” Moving the grass and leaves aside he showed them the spring.

“That’s not going to a pleasure to watch the memories in,” Ron pointed out as the four of them knelt on the grass.

He was right. It wasn’t. The only way they’d be able to manage would be if they lay flat on their stomachs, with only their heads over the opening. They’d have to be across from one another, but not directly. One at a time he and Draco would have to lower their heads. The timing would have to be just right, to both enter at the same time and not knock each other senseless. They would have to go alone; there was no room for anyone else.

They positioned themselves while Hermione suctioned out the water with her wand, and Ron damned the source from any new water coming in. They estimated he would be able to hold it back for ten to fifteen minutes. They would have to be fast. Draco broke open the made-do cap and turned the vial upside down, watching with a look of trepidation as the tendrils of his memory swirled silver in the opening.

Harry looked up into the grey of Draco’s eyes. “Are you sure about this?” he questioned.

Draco nodded. “Yes, it’s the only way we’ll be able to know for sure. Shall we?”

Harry cast a quick glance at Ron and Hermione who stood off the side. They watched carefully, their hands clasped together.

One after the other, they dipped their heads into the mist.

The island showed clear. The giant tortoise stood next to a small shrub eating the leaves off the branches that he could reach. Blue watched him from a short distance away, at first silently, then with a few soft whistling trills.

The tortoise slowly turned his head in his direction at the sound.

They turned back to what was happening in Malfoy’s memories.

Blue leaped into the air, flying towards the tortoise. Just then a loud crack penetrated the silence, which Harry realized was not actually silent, just void of all human sounds.

Startled, Blue fell back to the ground and Goyle quickly tucked his head back into his shell. Voldemort stood in the open space.

Harry reached out and grabbed Draco’s hand. Blue looked terrified and confused.

Voldemort held a small silver charm in his hand, a little larger than an inch in size sort of rectangular in shape, about a quarter of an inch thick. It was impossible to see what it was exactly from where they were. Maybe some sort of animal? It wasn’t clear. What was clear was how protective Voldemort was of it.

Voldemort looked around the small space; his gaze fell briefly on Blue, but swept on paying little attention to the small bird. At first he seemed to not see Goyle, who with his head tucked and his markings blended with the environment.

Another sweep of the area and Goyle was spotted. Voldemort smiled a truly frightening thing, his pleasure. He moved towards the tortoise. As he did he began speaking. Out from under the surrounding underbrush, snakes began appearing. Similar in appearance, but Harry knew they were all different. He also knew they were somewhat poisonous.

Malfoy stiffened beside him and looked puzzled. Voldemort had to be speaking Parseltongue and only Harry would be able to understand what happened next.

He tried to listen to what Voldemort was saying. But it was difficult. Draco’s trembling and rapid breathing kept him off balance. There was something about a golden flask, and it being the only way to ever remove or destroy what he was about to do. Voldemort told the snakes they were to protect this secret with their lives.

The snakes agreed.

Malfoy’s fear grew too great for Harry to concentrate. He squeezed Draco’s hand and whispered, “It's okay.”

“No. It’s not. You’ll see.”

As Harry watched he somewhat expected what he was about to see. Voldemort transformed the charm into a flatter and less three dimensional item and approached the tortoise, who had not moved other than to pull his head back in.

Blue, however, alternated between hopping around, taking short flights, and whistling whenever Voldemort was not paying attention to him, and complete and utter stillness when the Dark Lord looked in his direction. Concern for his friend Goyle alternated with his own fear. It was obvious from what Harry could see that Blue recognized Voldemort was someone to be feared.

Draco nudged him sharply. Harry turned back in time to see a dark blue flash of light and an elaborate wave of Voldemort’s wand. As Harry watched in horror the Horcrux slowly embedded itself into the shell of the tortoise. There it would stay, safe from damage or destruction. Only the death of the tortoise would destroy the Horcrux.

Draco stared, his eyes bright with sorrow at what they had just seen. He grabbed Harry’s hand ready to pull him out, but Harry wanted – no, not wanted, needed – to see and hear the rest. Voldemort spoke again to the snakes, reminding them of their promise.

Voldemort turned and Disapparated. Only then did Harry agree to leave the memories.

He decided that he would keep unsaid the part where Voldemort questioned the other snakes as to whether he should take a special treat home to his companion, Nagini, as he looked directly at Blue. Laughing, he decided that the bird would be too small, barely a mouthful. The snakes laughed with him and he Disapparated.

One snake laughing was one thing; a whole group of them was downright frightening. A glance at Malfoy told him it wasn’t any less terrifying in hissing.

When they emerged from the Pensieve, neither of them spoke.

Moments passed before Harry finally said, “I’m going to have to kill him, you know.”

“Kill who? And why is it the only way?” Draco’s voice was tight and harsh. “You’re not talking of killing Goyle, are you?” A hint of Malfoy's anger was starting to creep into his voice.

“Malfoy, I have to. It’s the only way.”

“The only way to what? And no, I’m not letting you kill him. He’s my friend. We understand each other and we help each other out. Blue would miss him. Goyle was his very first friend here.”

“I have to destroy the Horcrux.”

“Well, you’ll just have to do find a way to do that without killing Goyle.” Malfoy’s voice rose high and shrill and then lowered immediately to an almost whisper, “he trusts me. Even when he started getting cranky after, after…” he stopped dead.

“After the Horcrux was put in him, right? They have a very strong effect on those they’re near. Maybe killing Goyle will be blessing to him – like a mercy…”

“It is not a mercy killing. It would be murder, plain and simple. Don’t look at me like that Potter. I am aware of my past. This is different.” Malfoy spun around to face Harry, his face darkening with every word.

From the rustling in the bushes Harry knew Ron and Hermione had heard them arguing and were headed their way.

“I won’t let you do it and I’m sure the authorities would be very interested in knowing you plan on murdering, in cold blood, the last surviving member of its species. ON EARTH!” he shouted the last as the other two came running up, wands drawn.

“What the bloody hell is going on here?” Ron yelled when he reached them

“Harry, what did you see? Tell us what happened.” Hermione panted beside them

In as brief a tale as he could make it, Harry told them what they had seen. Hermione’s gasp when he told them about the Horcrux made him pause.

“Oh Harry. What are you going to do?”

“Kill him, of course. The Horcrux has to be destroyed."

“Over my dead body," Draco snapped.

“That’s easily enough arranged.” Ron snarled but then he stopped and mumbled something about not really meaning that, at Hermione’s glare.

“We have to. If even one of them survives, Voldemort will never be destroyed.”

“Why don’t the three of you hightail it back to England and take care of the rest of them. Then come back here. Maybe by then you’ll have thought of another solution,” Draco snapped.

“But we don’t know where, or even what the others are.” Harry’s anger and frustration were finally getting the best of him.

“Not my problem is it?” Malfoy, just as frustrated, snapped back.

“Stop it!” Hermione had had enough. “We’re not going to kill Lonesome George.”

“Goyle,” Draco muttered.

“What? Goyle?” confused, she turned to Harry.

”He’s named the tortoise ‘Goyle’, the reason should be self-evident,” Harry explained.

Hermione paused and gave Draco one her patented, ‘isn’t he silly, but sweet’ looks, “Okay, fine, or Goyle, right away. Maybe there is another way.”

Not happy about it, Harry agreed to wait until Malfoy was Draco again. Whatever the final choice was, Draco would be aware of it. Going behind Malfoy’s back was not an option. In the meantime the three of them would explore other options.

“Thank you, Harry,” was all Malfoy said when Harry had given him the decision.

Dinner had been eaten, but none of them had enjoyed it. Harry knew what he had to do. Ron backed him one hundred percent. Hermione and Draco were desperate to find any other solution. Per her usual tactic, Hermione turned to books to find the answer.

“There was a story I just read about a secret lake with magic water. The water had special healing powers over dark magic. It was a…”

“A folk-tale.” Malfoy interrupted excitedly. “Yes, I read it too. What?” he said, exasperated at the looks around him. “I didn’t go off island the first month or so I was here. I spent a lot of time at the library in town.”

“Why didn’t you go off island?”

“I wasn’t sure what would happen, if I could, and could I get back? The whole process took some adjustment.” He turned back to Hermione. “Do you think the lake still exists?”

“Well, the story ends with the belief that the lake still remains with its magical properties. Magic that can be used to drive out either dark magic or evil that has been forced into another usually by a wizard with dark tendencies.”

“Got that part covered,” Ron murmured, to which Harry could only agree.

“According to the folk tale, the lake only gives its healing water to those that have proven themselves worthy,” Draco said.

“What does that mean?” Ron asked.

“I think it means that the search for the magic lake has to be done the old-fashioned way – walking. What do you think Hermione?”

At Harry and Ron’s groans she smiled sympathetically at them. “I think that’s exactly what it means. Although horseback or some other equally unpleasant and physically demanding task might work as well, it just can’t be magical or anything with engines.

“Also the water will only go into a special golden flask, and it is hidden separate from the lake.”

Harry paused and thought. That sounded familiar. _Where had he heard that before?_

“So… we have to retrieve the flask from wherever it’s hidden, find the lake, then see if the lake finds us worthy?” Ron grumbled, “Sounds about right, compared to everything else we’ve gone through on this mission.”

“And don’t forget the monster we have to face and conquer.” Draco added helpfully.

“There’s a monster. No problem, yeah, let’s not forget the monsters,” Harry laughed. The whole thing was preposterous, but no more so than their earlier attempts at Horcrux hunting had been.

“We’re forgetting one very important thing. No one knows where the Golden Flask is.” Hermione pointed out.

“I do and so do you,” Malfoy said looking at Harry.

“I do?”

“Didn’t you say Voldemort mentioned a special flask when he was talking to the snakes?”

Harry thought, and then smiled. “He did. He was talking about a special container, and the only way to destroy what he had just done was with it. I’d really liked to watch the memory again. There may have been something I missed, more information.” His gaze flicked to Draco. “I was distracted.”

”Can’t you just ask them, what he said? Do you have to watch it again?

Harry could understand Malfoy’s reluctance. “I can try.”

TBC


	4. Chapter 4

**21 January, 1998, mid-evening, Blue’s Island, Galapagos Islands**

“Are you sure you understood what they told you?” Ron questioned. “I mean, not that I doubt you or anything, but it doesn’t seem to be here.”

Ron was right. It wasn’t here. They had been searching for two full days on their own, and now Draco was back and was helping to look as well. Harry was positive what the snakes had told him. All of them had said the same. They had been more than glad to share the secret with Harry when he too spoke to them in Parseltongue, but with more respect than Voldemort had.

“I have to hear the memory again, myself. I can watch it without you,” he said as Draco began to look ill at ease at the prospect.

He returned to where they had made their camp some thirty minutes later. “Well, he said what they said he said, but I may have interpreted the meaning incorrectly.”

“Well don’t just stand there, letting the grass grow under your feet. I’m due to change in the next few hours and I’d like to know if we’re any closer to finding it,” Draco snarled. “Besides, I’d rather like to get in some meaningful exercise while I can.”

Harry blushed at the underlying message. Ron paid no attention, but Hermione began to have a knowing look on her face. Harry felt his blush deepen.

“What he said was...” He repeated Voldemort’s words exactly as he had said them, word for word. The others sat dumbly looking at him. “Well, what do you think it means?”

“Erm, Harry? You just said all that in Parseltongue.”

“What? Oh sorry.” He stole a glance at Draco. Malfoy’s eyes were dark and cheeks flushed; his lips moist from the tongue that he kept dragging across them. The last time they had been alone together Harry had accidently spoken Parseltongue. It seemed Harry’s sibilant hissing was a kink that left Malfoy needy, very needy indeed.

“Harry? Mate? Can you translate that into human speech?” Ron interrupted the eye fucking Harry and Malfoy were engaged in. 

“Oh sorry.” He focused quickly. The sooner he got this said, the sooner he and Draco could engage in ‘meaningful exercise’.

“I have no worries that this one will ever be found and destroyed. They may find. They may know that it’s here. But they will never know the secret to its destruction. They’ll never know of the golden flask, or where it is hidden. Without the flask they cannot retrieve the magic water, even if they do know it can only be found where the lake mirrors the sky. One without the other will do them no good. And I have hidden it in the place where only those that do not fear will go. A place where it most needs to be.” Harry stopped.

“What the fuck does that mean?” Malfoy snapped.

Harry shrugged. “I thought it meant he hid it here, on the island, you know where he’d be able to get to it.”

“But having it here won’t do you any good without the water from the secret lake.” Hermione pointed out.

“Could he have hidden it near where the secret lake is? I mean where he could get the flask, get the water and then return here to recover the Horcrux, if he ever felt it was in danger? What was that bit about ‘where the lake mirrors the sky’ again?”

“That’s right!” Draco broke in. “Remember, only those who proved themselves worthy were ever able to find the secret lake and receive its magical water.

“Aren’t there a lot of lakes that have that quaint description?” Harry asked in response to Ron’s other question.

“Yes, but,” Hermione smiled slyly “the most famous for it is Lake Titicaca which borders Peru and Bolivia. There are a number of small islands in it, islands where small things could be easily hidden.”

“But, Hermione, that’s over a thousand miles from here, not to mention at least eight hundred of them are over the Pacific Ocean. We can’t fucking walk the whole way. Voldemort’s children would be in power by then, and all this would have been for nothing.”

Harry’s frustration had finally reached the breaking point. Yes, he wanted to find the damned flask and yes, he wanted to get the water from the twice damned secret lake and yes, he wanted to save Goyle from the thrice damned Horcrux, but more importantly and more immediately, he wanted Draco. If it didn’t happen in the next, he stole a look at his watch, one hour and eighteen minutes, it would be too late. Waiting another 49 hours was not on.

“You’re right, of course, but I do know that at least part of this journey, a large part, will have to be made on foot. It will require more research and thought. I’d like to read the folk tale again.”

 

**21 January, 1998, late evening, Blue’s Island, Galapagos Islands**

“Granger was right, you know,” Malfoy said, surprising Harry out of the complacent stupor he had fallen into. Malfoy had been quiet for so long that his voice seemed out of place.

“She generally is, but what in particular was she right about?” Harry asked.

“The colonies. This breed generally is more comfortable in colonies than by themselves.”

“Why aren’t you?”

“I tried it. Didn’t care much for it.”

Harry turned and looked to see if there was more Malfoy wasn’t saying. When nothing else was forthcoming he asked, “Why not?”

“Too crowded, too noisy and extremely too much ‘breeding’ going on.”

“Oh? Didn’t you want to participate in the ‘breeding’?” adding the air quote just as Malfoy had.

“Merlin, no! Seriously, once they’ve found their mate, breeding becomes almost a full time job. They do it constantly.” He remained still for a few minutes then a slow smile spread over his face. “Besides, from the amount of following me you did last year, you should know. I’m a loner.”

Harry felt himself grow warm with anger. “Yes, well, I had reasons to follow you, didn’t I?”

“I never said you didn’t. I’m just surprised with all that sneaking around you didn’t notice that I stayed mostly to myself. It seems to have carried over to Blue.”

Malfoy raised his thumb to his mouth and nibbled on his nail before jerking his hand away and folding them into his lap. “I am sorry about some of the things that happened last year. I had no choice. You wouldn’t understand. I don’t want to talk about that anymore.”

“I understand more than you know. Remember I told you, I was there. I saw everything. I know exactly what happened. And didn’t happen. You didn’t kill Dumbledore, you’re not a murderer. But I agree I don’t think talking of this now will serve any purpose.”

“I miss him,” they both spoke at the same time.

Harry laughed, “Something tells me you’re not talking about Professor Dumbledore.”

Malfoy chuckled in response, “And one can presume Professor Snape is not the one you’re pining for.”

Harry had noticed Malfoy always wore long sleeves, no matter the temperature. There was something that had been bothering Harry for a while; he had to ask it. “Does he ever call you? You know, through the Mark, like he does others?”

Malfoy shook his head, “No. Remember, I don’t matter anymore.”

“What do you think will happen when he does?”

“That should probably be if he does? I don’t know. I think it will be dependent on whose magic is stronger, his calling me, or Professor Snape’s keeping me here. I know my father never had a choice. When he was called, he had to go.”

“Had to, or chose to?” Harry pressed.

“I think – had to. Oh not that I think it wasn’t a choice to some degree, but I don’t believe he could have refused, if he’d wanted to. He always made it look as if it was by choice to save face. To prove he was strong and powerful.”

 

**22 January, 1998, early, early morning, Blue’s Island, Galapagos Islands**

“Has Granger determined how to stop my transforming yet?” Malfoy whispered between the nibbles he took on Harry’s bottom lip. His time was growing to a close; enough time had been wasted in useless arguments and conjectures.

“No, not yet,” Harry answered back, pulling Draco’s upper lip in his mouth and sucking on it.

“Oh Gods,” Draco responded, breathlessly. “How long has it been? How many hours?”

“About two or maybe a bit more, I think.”

“We don’t have much time. Why didn’t we do this earlier?” Draco whimpered as Harry latched his mouth onto the soft skin that was just below Malfoy’s ear, sucking and licking between his words as he answered.

“We were trying to figure out a plan. You know, where to go, when to go, how to go, all those 'to go' questions.” Harry eventually finished saying, and then gasped as Draco reached under Harry’s shirt. His hand lightly stroked against Harry’s stomach causing him to squirm and giggle. Draco leaned back and gave him a look, a look that told Harry he would remember Harry was a bit ticklish. And would not hesitate to use it to his advantage.

Harry’s nipple responded favorably to the roughness of Draco’s hand as he pressed hard and flat on it. He ached for Draco to take them into his mouth, ached for them to be licked and sucked and bitten. He ripped his shirt off and pressed Draco’s head to his chest.

“Fuck yeah!” he moaned as Draco pulled one and then the other nipple into his mouth. Their kisses may have started slow and gentle, but there was nothing soft or easy about this. It was hard and painful and Harry wanted more.

“Yeah, well, we should have done this first and then fucking planned. We’ll have to be quick. Jesus, fuck I want you.” Draco gasped.

Harry looked down as Draco looked up at him, the eyes storm dark and wanting.

Harry had never held another man’s cock in his hands, but suddenly it was the one thing he had to do. More important than Volde-who, more important than finding and destroying Hor-whats; it was the most important ever. He pulled Draco to full standing and with one hand cupped his chin and plundered his mouth, while the other hand unsnapped and unzipped the trousers.

He snaked his hand inside, fumbling to reach inside the placket of the pants Malfoy was wearing. Fuck, he could not find it. He panicked. A hand reached down and guided him to his destination.

“Fuck, Malfoy, you feel fucking incredible,” he panted as his hand gripped the hard cock he held.

“Potter, please.” Malfoy whined.

“Please what?” He squeezed hard enough for Malfoy to notice, but not so hard it was painful. “Bring you off. You want me to let you fuck my hand?” Each word emphasized by powerful and rhythmic strokes.

A whimpered, “Yes.”

His own erection ignored, Harry tugged and pulled at Malfoy’s cock. If the sounds that Draco made as he got closer and closer to his release were like music to Harry’s ears, the small hitch in his breath just before he spilled into Harry’s hand was the crescendo of the symphony.

If Harry had never held another man’s cock in his hands it was for sure he’d never licked another man’s come off his fingers, but it seemed it was to be a night of many firsts.

Draco watched as Harry took each come covered finger into his mouth and licked it clean from the nail down the V of the hand. By the time he had finished, Draco’s was a face of pure joy. “Was it that good?” he asked.

“You have no idea.”

“But what about you?” Draco pointed to Harry's still hard cock, and then reached out to unfasten Harry’s trousers.

Harry stopped his hand. “Don’t worry about me. It will be time for you to leave soon. I’d rather you not get started and then get pulled away. I can take care of myself after you’ve gone. “

“You’re first, next time. I promise.”

“Oh you can believe that.” Harry quipped with a small chuckle. “Now, please come here.” He pulled Draco towards him and they kissed until again there was the surprised “oh” from Malfoy followed by the “ah fuck,” and he was gone.

 

**24 January, 1998 early morning, Blue’s Island, Galapagos Islands**

“Harry, are you sure it’s a good idea for him to come with us? I mean, we weren’t even allowed to mention the word Horcrux around our families. Now, not only does he know about them, he’s coming with us. I just don’t understand. Remember Harry, up until less than a month ago, Malfoy was the enemy.”

Ron’s argument made sense, but Harry was sure Malfoy needed to be with them. “We don’t know where to look, for either the Golden Flask or the Secret Lake.”

“And he does?”

“No, I don’t,” Malfoy interrupted. “But that is my friend we are trying to save. I am going with you whether you want me or not.”

Draco sat back and turned to ask Harry the time.

“The spell? Have we found a solution to Snape’s spell yet? If we can’t break the spell, this argument is useless,” Harry said.

The others, even including Malfoy had to agree with that. Traveling over the distances they thought they would have to travel with Draco being basically held captured by the rigidness of the spell would be an absolute nightmare.

“Hermione, you’re the smart one. Can you take a look in that traveling library you carry with you and see what you can find?” Harry asked.

In a soft, almost not heard voiced, Malfoy said, “Please.”

Ron and Draco had been getting along better, no one, including them, could deny that, but there was still an undercurrent of mistrust on Ron’s part. Truth be told, Harry not only understood that, he also felt he should probably feel the same. Had the sex with Malfoy clouded his mind? Did they really need Draco to come with them?

For all Harry’s arguing with himself, he knew beyond any shadow of a doubt that it was absolutely vital for Malfoy to be there. The sex and the fondness he had begun to develop for the Slytherin git, Harry thought affectionately, was a very pleasant side benefit, but it wasn’t the reason why. Malfoy would play an extremely important role; Harry just didn’t know what yet.

“I’m going for a walk along the beach. I’ve only got two hours before I’m due to change again. The overcast skies have cooled things off a bit.” Draco said as he stood with his face downcast. “Besides, I think I want to be alone. After all I should probably get used to it again. You will leave and I’ll be stuck here, alone again.”

“Draco, don’t say that. You’re coming with us.”

“How? We don’t have a solution to the spell yet.”

Harry wasn’t sure if he’d be rejected or not, but felt it worth a try. “Would you mind some company on your walk?”

The most mischievous look passed over Draco’s face as he sighed dramatically and said, “Sure. You can come.”

He led them straight to an out of the way enclave on the west side of the island. Remote and barren, they had the place completely to themselves, except for a few sea lions. The beach was nonexistent; the shore too rocky for swimming.

“I was afraid you’d not take the hint.” Draco said, pulling Harry to him as he spoke. His mouth covered Harry’s and his tongue demanded entrance. Harry obliged, the kiss leaving him effectively unable to speak. Draco’s tongue in his mouth, stroking and massaging his tongue, searching out the rough edges off Harry’s teeth, left him breathless.

Harry could only moan his agreement to what Draco was saying and then his approval as Draco’s mouth left his and he lifted Harry’s shirt over his head. “Do you have any sunscreen? It may be overcast, but we can still burn.” Draco questioned between the small bites he was taking along Harry’s neck and chest.

He nodded and reached into the pocket of the cargo shorts they’d all adopted since being in the Islands. He handed the bottle to Draco, and almost whimpered with ecstasy as Draco’s hands massaged the lotion into Harry’s skin. His strokes on Harry’s chest and back were strong and firm.

Harry’s pants were unfastened and soon they were down around his ankles. He had not been expecting that. He had no objections, none at all. He’d just not expected it.

“Why don’t we put some of that sun protection on your bum?” Draco asked.

“What for?”

“Because, I’d really hate to see it get all red and painful from sunburn.”

“What?” Harry questioned again.

Draco lifted his head and stared at Harry. He did not speak a word, just stared.

“Oh, you mean...”

Draco dropped to his knees, but before he took Harry’s cock into his mouth, he chuckled saying, “It’s a good thing you’re going to save the world by other attributes, cos you can be a bit dim.”

Harry could only agree with him at that moment, allowing no other thought than the feeling of Malfoy’s mouth on his cock to embed forever into his memory. He couldn’t wait to see what it felt like to come down Draco’s throat. Unfortunately he didn’t get to know what it would feel like for Draco to swallow his come, as the spell grabbed him and whisked him away just as Harry came. Instead, he found himself thrusting into empty air, his hands gripping tightly at nothing, while the rocky shore line got a good spraying.

Draco was gone.

“Fuck!” Harry shouted as Draco was pulled away yet again. They had such a short time together, and most of the time had been spent not being together in the way they so wanted to be together. And with the spell still on they could not begin the fucking quest!

And Harry had very much wanted to test the protection power of the sunblock Draco had so graciously lathered onto Harry’s bum.

 

**26 January 1998, afternoon and early evening, Blue’s Island**

Every one of Hermione’s attempts at breaking Snape’s timed spell had all failed dismally.

The situation was coming to the critical point. So much time had already been spent, if not actually wasted. The fear of what was happening at home was growing stronger. Yet Harry remained adamant that Malfoy had to come with them.

It wasn’t just for personal pleasure, although the thought of them actually being able to take it slow and easy and maybe finish what they’d started would be a wonderful thing, remembering what had happened along the shoreline two days ago. It certainly did add to the want. No, he still maintained, even after the argument with Ron, that without Malfoy their mission was doomed to failure.

Following his instincts had kept him alive up to his point; Harry saw no reason to stop now.

But with the spell on Malfoy it would be impossible for him to travel with them. They were on a carousel that never stopped moving and there was no way on or off of it.

“I have an idea,” Ron spoke up. They had been at this for hours, Draco having joined them at one that afternoon. His next change was due at eight that evening. “It’s probably a really stupid one. I figured as we’ve got nothing to lose, we might as well try it.”

The others turned eagerly towards him. Even Draco conveyed a positive reaction.

“Let’s hear it,” Harry said.

Ron explained how when his mother needed to prepare meals for the family with their different schedules and times arriving and leaving, she used different timed spells. That way she could guarantee that the food would always be ready for them when they arrived home. She could set different parts of the meal to start at different times for different family members. The spells and times were preset for different times.

Harry and the others waited for him to continue, at least to tell them how this applied to Draco’s situation.

“I figure that’s, most likely, the kind of spell Snape used on Draco. He probably put it on continual loop to repeat.” Blushing Ron finished and then reached out to pick up a piece of volcanic gravel and threw it into the sea.

The sun was setting. Draco was due to change in a few hours and desperation is oft considered the mother of invention.

With exuberance Draco rose to his feet. “So, if we know the words of the spell and the casting motions that go with them, we can either reverse it, or even better, end it all together. Is that what you were thinking?”

Ron nodded.

“That’s fucking brilliant, Weasley,” Draco said impressed.

“Always the tone of surprise,” Ron muttered under his breath, but he looked pleased none–the-less.

Harry and Hermione agreed as well, Hermione showing her approval with a few well placed kisses.

“Just one problem though.” Harry hated to be the bearer of potentially bad news, but it had to be asked. “Do you remember your mum’s spell?”

“Of course I do. Merlin knows I saw her do it enough times. With my older brothers always out and about and never knowing for sure when Dad would be home. The clock only told us where they were at the moment not how long it would be before they’d be home.”

“Malfoy’s got three hours before he’s due to change. Shall we try it now?”

“I don’t see why not. I mean if you’re ready. There may be some good-byes you or Blue may want to say,” Ron added looking at Draco sagely.

Draco’s expression grew thoughtful; it was clear he was thinking of the tortoise Goyle. “No, we’ve waited long enough to get started. I’ll be doing more for him this way than all the good-byes will ever do. Let’s try it.”

The spell was long and complicated and trying to determine the best reverse of it took all of their concentration and skill. Eventually an agreement was reached. The spell was cast.

Unrestrained with the possibility of success, they played a wizard’s version of freeze tag on the beach, running in and out of the incoming waves as they did. Once frozen only the person casting the freezing spell could break the spell, something Ron and Draco both took delight in not doing.

It was fun and relaxing and Harry enjoyed himself more than he had in very long time. But as the hour drew nearer they all became aware of the time approaching. Draco tried to keep their excitement of the game alive until the last moment.

The time came and Draco was not pulled away. Scared to hope that it had worked, they kept their celebration to a minimum. Nine and ten o’clock came and went as well. Still Draco remained.

Assured of their achievement, it was agreed that if he still remained there by sunrise tomorrow, the spell was a success. They could begin their quest.

Ron and Hermione went into town to the late night market. The afternoon playing in the sun had made them all very hungry, plus they needed to obtain essentials as well as food for their journey. Draco reminded them of sunscreen, lip balm, and insect repellent, lots of each. After they’d eaten and prepared for the trip, they went to bed. The plan was to try and leave before seven the next morning. Even though it was the first night they had been able to spend together, the early morning departure kept them from becoming too amorous, not to mention the close proximity of Ron and Hermione.

 

**30 January, 1998, sunrise, Machu Picchu, Peru**

“This sight still amazes me,” Hermione said as they came over the pass. Machu Picchu stood before them, spectacular against the rising son.

“Hermione doesn’t believe that wizards did this. She thinks it was Muggles,” Ron said as they began to descend into the valley.

“Interesting enough, it turns out to have been a joint effort. Both were involved. Well, not it the building of this great city, but in the forming of the Incan empire. Didn’t you find the legend in your readings when you were here last?” he questioned.

She shook her head. “No, there wasn’t time last time we were here.”

“Yeah, Harry was all freaked out thinking he had seen you.” Ron laughed.

“Well. He had.”

“We know that now, but at the time we thought he was crazy. We spent all this time looking for you, trying to find where you’d gone.”

“What’s the legend?” Harry asked.

“It’s actually more the tale of Cuzco, the birthplace of the Incan Empire, and without Cuzco, there’s no Machu Picchu.”

“So tell the story already.” Ron nudged him.

It was their fourth day of trekking and hiking. Hermione had come up with a plan. According to her, they could Apparate near to Machu Picchu, from there they would have to trek the rest of the way. They had trusted her to have figured it out, and just got on with the packing and preparing to leave. Now, four days later, they were tired and bored and sore. They all welcomed a story to distract them from their suffering.

Draco began: “Emperor Viracoucha ruled during the early growth of Cuzco. He had two sons, the eldest -- no one seems able to remember his name -- is unimportant, and the second son was Pachacuti.

“Rumours at the time were that another tribe was set to invade them. Viracoucha and the eldest brother were afraid and cared more for themselves than their people; they ran away. Pachacuti and his fellow warriors instead stayed to defend their homes and family.

“Pachacuti called for his warriors with the request that they gather all of the jaguar skins and furs they could find and encase their bodies within them. From a distance it would appear as if they were indeed jaguars. Hidden amongst the tall grass they lay waiting for the attack. When it came they rose up en masse. The other tribe ran away, until someone realized it was a trick and they returned to the fighting.

“At this time there was also a powerful wizard who supported Pachacuti’s rise to power. He gave to those warriors the strength, power and ferocity of the jaguar, in essence giving them Animagi power. In addition, to ensure Pachacuti’s victory he turned the stones in the field where the battle was taking place into warriors as well.

“Needless to say their side won and Pachacuti became emperor. The enemy was destroyed and the city remained safe. There was little hunger or homelessness, even those who served were provided for. But don’t think life was easy. History shows Pachacuti ruled with an iron fist, any crime or rebellion was punished by almost certain death.”

Surprisingly Ron and Draco both agreed with the philosophy to some extent, and in different ways. Harry and Hermione found it appalling. Their discussion about justice and fairness lasted until it was time to find a place to stop for lunch.

 

**3 February, 1998, afternoon and evening, Llulluchampampa, the Sacred Valley, Peru**

Trudging along up the mountain, Harry had slowly begun to realize Draco was no longer walking beside him. Turning to look, he noticed Draco was hanging back, and kept turning his head at Ron and Hermione who were bringing up the rear.

Ron was a ways in front of her. Walking by herself, she moved slower and slower. Harry watched her more carefully. Hermione did not appear well. Her skin was pasty looking and she was sweating. The trail was difficult, but not that difficult.

Unsure what to do, Harry stood and waited for them to reach him. Ron reached him first, as Draco had waited for Hermione. Harry noticed immediately that whatever Hermione had Ron must have it too. He looked just as bad.

Harry looked back, just as she faltered. If Draco had not been there she would have fallen.

“Here, you sit down and rest. I’ll go see if I can help Draco with Hermione.” Harry squatted by Ron and helped him to drink their water. “Take small sips, not too much.”

“Sorry, I’m a terrible boyfriend. I should be helping her. I just feel so dizzy and weak. I am going to just sit. I’ll feel better in a bit.”

Harry stood. Draco and Hermione had almost reached him. Leaning heavily on Draco’s shoulder, if not for him she would not have made it.

“Looks like they’ve got altitude sickness,” Draco said once he and Harry had helped lower Hermione to the ground.

“They took the medicine. We all did.”

“It happens. Sometimes it doesn’t work. People are different. I think wizards are more affected than Muggles.”

“I’m not affected; neither are you. Why not?”

“I was the first few times I came to the mountains. That’s how I know what it is. I’ve acclimated to it. They will too, it just takes time and rest then they should be fine.” Draco reached over and grabbed the bottle of water and took a long drink. Harry watched as his throat worked while swallowing. His body reacted in the way he would have predicted. “As for you, when have you ever not been the exception to the rule?” Draco continued.

Turning towards Harry he must have seen something in Harry’s eyes, his gaze shifted south. He reached for Harry, and pulled him close. The kiss was brief, but passionate enough to have Harry’s toes curling before it was finished. “How long do you think they’ll need to rest?” Harry asked, not yet letting Draco go.

“Hard to tell, could be half a day, or could be three days. I know there’s a reason to hurry, but if you try to hurry the healing along too fast, it could be a lot worse. We might as well set up camp here. The sun’s getting low and we should be able to make a comfortable camp here.”

 

**10 February, 1998, morning, Paucartambo, eastern slope of Andes, Peru**

Coming around the corner of the trail, Ron was teasing Hermione about something silly and ridiculous. She burst out laughing. Draco suddenly stopped and shushed her.

Ron angrily began to berate Draco, but with one glance at Draco’s face –fear and terror--Harry knew this was important, something they needed to be aware of. He nodded to Ron to remain silent.

Draco pointed up the mountainside to their left, the direction in which the trail was leading them. Almost hidden in the trees and other plants, a dragon-like creature was enjoying a mid-morning snack of a young llama.

It looked like a dragon, but was much too small. It stood less than thirteen feet in length, as far as Harry could tell. But then again, he didn’t have a measuring stick with him so it was hard to be sure. It was quite beautiful, copper coloured with black markings on its ridges. Except for the extremely short horns which made it look somehow unfinished.

“Blimey,” Ron whispered. The awe and terror in his voice matched Draco’s face. “That’s a Peruvian Vipertooth! They’re bloody evil.”

_Fuck,_ Harry thought. One of the most dangerous of all the dragons and it had to show up on their journey. The dragon’s preference for human flesh was well known.

They remained perfectly still and silent, except for Hermione who lowly and quickly cast a “notice-me-not” as well as _Silencio_. Being a creature of magic, the Silence Charm would probably not keep it from hearing them if they made excess noise. Hopefully it would protect them from the small unavoidable noises that humans sometime made.

Harry was more concerned about their odor. Three days on the Inca trail in all likelihood had made their human smell quite strong. If there was a spell for that, he did not know it. Scourgify only addressed the surface dirt, not the scent, the human scent that no amount of washing took away.

Apparently, Draco did know one, or at least one he must have thought would work. Subtly, his wand moved in his hand followed by a whispered spell.

Harry raised his fingers to his nose. Draco’s scent was barely discernible anymore. He found he missed it. Draco’s small smile told him he understood, but their lives were more important. As soon as possible, Draco would make it up to him. Once they were safe and private.

The question was: would it fool the dragon?

Slowly, they moved off the trail and into the trees. It was close and it was tight, but they each seemed to comprehend the need to stay together. Even with the spells they moved as silently as possible. There was no need to tempt fate.

Once his heart had stopped beating so loudly he feared disturbing the dragon, Harry could hear it enjoying the meal. The sharp crack of the bones as they were bitten off, the crunching of those same bones as they were chewed, and most disgusting of all, the squelching of the soft muscles mixed with the partially masticated bones were enough to make Harry gag. He held it back. His friends did not seem to be faring any better. The sound of the dragon slurping up what could only be spilt blood just about undid him. _Wonder if our own eating sounds that disgusting to the Centaurs?_ popped into his head, from where he didn’t know.

He shook his head to clear the effects of what he’d just heard, and grimaced at his own bizarre thoughts. Draco watched him from across the small clearing, puzzlement on his face. In their rush to hide, Harry had ended up between Ron and Hermione. Disappointment had been clear across all of their faces, but once settled they weren’t going to take a chance on disturbing the dragon. Harry smiled at Draco and shrugged.

A nudge from Ron brought his mind from the randy place it had gone while looking at Draco’s hands. Lord, he had beautiful hands. The feel of them on Harry’s skin had been exquisite. He turned back towards Ron.

Ron mouthed, silently, “Listen.”

Harry did. Nothing. The sound of the Vipertooth eating was gone. Now, however came the truly terrifying part. No longer occupied with its eating, would the dragon become aware of what was going on around him? Would it curl up and go to sleep now that its belly was full, or fly back to the nest? Even more importantly, had that been the entrée, or an appetizer?

No one breathed. A rustle in the trees above startled them, then the easily recognizable _thump, thump, thump_ of large wings flapping. A sound normally heart stopping, this time it filled him with glee. The dragon was leaving.

It was the best sound Harry had heard in a long time. They were safe, all of them. The dragon had gone.

They waited a few more minutes to be sure it had a chance to get far enough away. Smiles and expressions of relief grew on their faces as they did. When they were sure the danger was passed, they jumped for joy.

Hermione moved towards Ron and fell into his arms. Harry only had eyes for Draco. In no time Draco was in his arms and Harry was kissing him, or Draco was kissing him. It was hard to tell. He allowed himself to be lost in the kiss for a few moments before an exaggerated cough next to them interrupted them. Ron and Hermione were both staring at them.

“Well, Potter. I’d say we’re out of the closet now. No need for you to stifle those screams of ecstasy any longer,” Draco quipped as he took a step back. “Oh, and Weasley you might want to close the mouth. I wouldn’t advise swallowing any of the insects around here. No telling what you’d catch.”

“Stifle! What stifle? I don’t think Harry knows the meaning of the word. I’m just surprised that you two seemed to think we didn’t already know. Just because we can’t travel by magic, doesn’t mean a silencing charm, couldn’t go a long way in these mountains. We were sick the other night, not deaf,” Ron said and then it was his turn to grin, as Harry’s and Draco’s mouths fell open. “Oh and were you saying something about swallowing the insects, Malfoy?”

Hermione stopped giggling finally to say, “Come on, we’ve wasted enough time. We’ve got a magic lake to find.”

TBC


	5. Chapter 5

**25 February, 1998, midnight, Isla Kalahuta, Lake Titicaca**

Ron, Harry, and Draco stood breathlessly while Hermione entered the _chullpas_ or funerary tower. It had been her choice to go alone. No amount of arguing had changed her mind.

They stood with wands drawn ready to jump into action if action was needed.

In the days of the Incas this island, Isla Kalahuta, had been used as a cemetery. Some of the original burial sites and funerary towers from then still existed. Legends were that a horrible fate would befall anyone who desecrated the cemetery or area surrounding it.

Hermione had felt that for someone who feared death as much as Voldemort did that hiding the Golden Flask in a cemetery, especially this cemetery, would be considered an act of courage, at least in his mind. The others were skeptical, but the more Harry thought about it, the more sense it made. It was worth at least testing, besides they had no other ideas. He’d sided with her.

Midnight was the hour in which they thought chances were best of finding it. However, getting to the island at midnight was problematic. Most of those with boats were locals and the locals believed totally in the legends. They would not approach the island at night.

The four of them had all agreed that magic should not be used except for protection or self-defense only. Worth was to be found in doing things the hard way.

They found a boat and its skipper, after much bribery and a few threats, and they arrived at Isla Kalahuta at 11:50 pm. The choice of where the flask could be seemed endless, but like an owl that always seemed to know how to find the right address; Hermione knew just where to go.

The others questioned her assuredness but Hermione, being Hermione, would not waiver. She went straight to the tower and waited for them to catch up before she entered.

She emerged after what seemed like an eternity, but was probably only a few minutes, later. The smile that lit up her face told them all they needed to know. She had the flask.

“I thought it was supposed to be gold,” Draco muttered.

Harry looked more closely at the flask. Draco was right. It wasn’t gold; it was more of a greenish mud brown colour.

Hermione held up her hand indicating they should just wait and with her thumb rubbed at the flask. It took a bit of rubbing but eventually they could see shining underneath the mud brown was gold, pure, burnished and flawless. Once cleaned of that which had been hiding its beauty it was easily one of the most beautiful things Harry had ever seen.

It stood about ten inches tall, wider at the bottom than at the top. The top portion was long and slender, probably about two inches in diameter. On either side of it curved two handles, which were encrusted with jewels, rubies, emeralds, topaz and sapphires. The top part of the stopper was also covered with the same jewels only smaller. It was exquisite. Harry could not begin to guess its value, probably priceless.

“It’s beautiful,” Draco said next to him mirroring his thoughts, “but there’s one thing that’s been bothering me about this whole thing.”

“What’s that?” the others asked him.

“The Dark Lord knows of all this. Why didn’t he just keep the flask for himself and use it to obtain the healing water. I’m sure he feels he’s worthy.”

“Because, I doubt the lake, even if he could find it, would agree. Would you?” Hermione answered. Then realizing who she’d just asked that question of she paused. They all did, except Draco who paid it no attention.

“But couldn’t he find a worthy person to do it for him?”

“I don’t think it works like that. You can’t force someone to find the lake. Only those who are truly seeking it out of a sense of love and loyalty would be successful. That’s why I think it’s vital that Draco is with us,” Harry said. He’d been thinking about this a lot. Sure he was right.

“You mean because Draco wants to save Goyle, the giant tortoise, he’ll be the one that will find the secret lake?”

“If we find it, and we still haven’t, then yes. I think it will be because of Draco.”

“We want to save a whole group of people,” Ron said. “Shouldn’t that count for something?”

“I’m sure it does, but I think the lake cares more about one person caring for one other. It’s more about someone being willing to sacrifice themselves for another’s happiness and well-being. That’s what the healing magic cares about.”

The journey had been long and grueling, but they were getting close. They could see the end in sight. Now they just had to find the location of the secret lake. They knew the entire lake could not be full of magic water. It had to be limited to only one area, but where?

“Wasn’t there something about monster protecting the source? Did they mean real monsters? I mean maybe we should ask around, find out where the local monsters' hang out is.” Ron suggested.

Draco replied, “The story names them as a giant crab, a crocodile and a flying serpent.”

“Well then we just need to find where crabs, crocodiles and flying serpents like to hang out together,” Harry snapped. Flying serpents, oh great. He supposed he’d be the one expected to deal with them. Did flying serpents speak Parseltongue even? There was probably some strange dialect that only they could understand. He’d cross that bridge when he came to it, or rather when they found it. Right now he just wanted to sleep for a few hours.

He grabbed Draco’s hand and pulled him along. “We’re going to take a nap for few hours. Do not disturb us unless that thing,” he said pointing to the flask, “suddenly sprouts wings or feet and tries to make its escape. You two have first watch.” With that, he and Draco disappeared.

 

**25 February, 1998, morning, Puno, Peru, Lake Titicaca**

The boat for the return trip was late in retrieving them. They had nearly decided they were going to be forced to spend the night on the island; an event none of them were looking forward to, not wanting to test the legend too closely.

Eventually the boat did return and they all rolled into their perspective rooms at approximately 2:30 am, where they collapsed into bed.

Early the next morning, too early in Harry’s opinion, he woke to find Draco next to him, sitting up. He was looking studiously at a map of the area, a pen and some paper in hand. Harry didn’t think he’d ever seen Malfoy use either of those, only parchment and quill. But then again, why would he? Malfoy read for a while, chewing on the end of the pen as he did, and then scratched at the paper with the pen. He repeated this pattern several times. Seemingly oblivious to Harry’s presence, except that some part of Draco remained touching Harry at all times.

“What are you doing?” Harry finally asked after he had watched the ritual for a few minutes.

Draco jumped slightly then turned and, grinning brilliantly at Harry, bent down to give him a kiss. It could easily have led to something more if Harry had had his way. Draco had other ideas.

He sat back up and said, “I’m determining where the Secret Lake is. I took it seriously when you said I would be the one to find it.”

“Oh. Have you found it?”

“I think so. Yes. Come here and look.”

Harry grinned and waggled his eyebrows playfully. “I’d rather you come down here and look,” lifting the sheets as he did.

”You’re incorrigible. Later, I promise,” Draco said with a laugh. Leaning over Harry he kissed him again, long and slow. “Let me explain this to you, see if it makes sense. Then I promise I’m all yours.”

Harry sighed dramatically and sat up. “Okay, what have you found?”

Thirty minutes later Harry had to admit, Draco’s logic was impeccable. It made complete and perfect sense. Not even Hermione should be able to find fault with it.

It was based on folk lore and legends as many other aspects of their quest had been. One of the islands of Lake Titicaca, known as Isla de la Luna, or the Island of the Moon was believed to be where the god Viracoucha first commanded the moon to rise into the sky. Based on this, Draco had decided that the healing water would most likely be accessible on the night of the crescent moon.

They would need to climb to the eucalyptus grove at the summit. From there they could see the water. Where the thin light of the crescent moon shone first would be where the healing waters were to be found.

It was brilliant and Harry told him so.

An hour later Harry and Draco finally made their way out of bed. Hermione and Ron were up as well, but like them, barely. “8:00 a.m. is entirely too early,” Ron said as he yawned and poured another cup of coffee.

“Especially when it’s after two when you finally crawl into bed,” Draco said as he added sugar to his.

“Not to mention when you’re kept awake another hour after that,” Hermione said and then blushed, realizing she’d just shared more than she’d intended, which was rather cute and charming. Ron’s even deeper blush was less charming.

Harry reached for Draco’s hand under the table. “We think Draco may have come up with an excellent idea for the lake, or at least the part of the lake we’re going to need. I’ll let Draco explain it to you.”

Hermione agreed that it was brilliant.

 

**25 February, 1998, afternoon and evening, Puno, Peru**

A visit to the local library confirmed that the next crescent moon was due on February 26, which was the next day. They had a day free. A day and night to do whatever they wanted. Draco’s theory was so sound, none of them felt a need to examine any others.

When they left the small library, they noticed the streets were all very crowded with people dressed in native and festive costumes, clearly drinking more than they should. Curious, Harry asked what was going on. It was Carnival, the main time for feasting and festivity was that very night. There would be dancing and celebrations; they were invited to join in the fun.

This was a chance for them to enjoy their one free night. They’d heard of the celebrations that this night brought in other countries of the continent. It turned out that the people of Puno celebrated a bit differently. Large amounts of alcohol were still consumed, but instead of dancing in the streets and parades, they preferred to celebrate with water bombs. They weren’t particular about who they hit. Everyone was a target. The first one that got Draco nearly caused both Harry and Ron to about piss themselves they laughed so hard. Water ran in rivulets down Draco’s face, causing his hair to plaster itself against his forehead and cheeks. Unlike the Malfoy of old, he took it graciously. Although he did promise the young culprit that he was going to go home and purchase a large supply of balloons to fill with water- ice cold water- and would be on the lookout for him. The two taunted and teased each other, all in good fun, before Draco finally dried himself off.

That night they celebrated the old fashioned way. They went clubbing. Harry tried to get out of it until Draco threatened him with abstinence if he did. Harry dressed in as festive of clothing as he had, and finished before Draco. Draco requested he wait in the reception area of their small hotel, the Colon Inn.

Thirty minutes later, Draco came into the lobby. _Dear merciful Lord above_. Harry’s mouth filled with saliva and his cock threatened to rip a hole in his jeans to escape its confines. Draco was wearing the outfit from Harry’s dream, the one with the rose pink, skin tight t-shirt and the chocolate brown leather trousers. The only thing missing were the blue trainers.

Harry had told him about the dream. As Draco neared he whispered huskily in Harry’s ear, “Remember I don’t do blue trainers.”

The only thing that kept Harry from doing as he’d wanted in the dream and falling to his knees to worship at the cock of Draco Malfoy was that they were in a public place.

Even Ron and Hermione nodded their approval. Harry had to admit to some serious chest monster jealousy when Ron said, “Blimey, Malfoy, even I’d want to fuck you in that.”

Draco preened and turned blushingly pink.

The club was fantastic. They drank: margaritas, Pisco sours, tequila shots, and cerveza, lots and lots of cerveza.

Draco danced, and danced with just about everyone, mostly salsa dancing, some club dancing and surprisingly quite a bit of native folk dancing. Harry loved watching him dance. He danced with little girls, young ladies, and women old enough to be his grandmother. Even a few men, young and old, requested him as a partner. After each he returned to the table to see if Harry was ready to join him. Each time Harry said no, he was not a dancer.

But when an exceedingly handsome young man--clearly native to the region with thick black hair, long and braided, and deep brown eyes--with a body clearly meant for physical activities which PROBABLY INCLUDED FUCKING, danced too close and too long with Draco, then preceded to REMOVE HIS SHIRT, showing muscles on top of muscles, Harry began to see red. Then a song came on that was the most provocative Harry had heard, practically begging people to suck each other off. Not that he could clearly understand all the lyrics, but there was a lot of talk of: “Honey bring it close to my lips, Honey bring it close to my lips” and “it’s gotta be big, it’s gotta be big,” At least that was what Harry heard. He had had enough.

He marched onto the dance floor took Draco’s hand in his and lead him to the loo. Small and crowded, the hallway was full of others who had got the same idea from the lyrics and driving beat of the song. Harry pushed Draco against the wall and leaned in. “Mine,” he half sobbed –half growled, unsure if he was asking or telling.

“Idiot Gryffindor. Yours, Always.”

Harry fell to his knees. “Oh, fuck! Draco,” Harry moaned. Not only had he wore the outfit but there was no zip or buttons on the trousers. Instead the two sides were held closed by a thin leather thong, criss-crossing up the opening and tied at the top, Draco’s cock, hard and heavy against it, strained to be let loose. With his teeth Harry reached out and pulled the loose bow open, continuing to pull the twine through each eyelet opening. Harry inhaled. The scent intoxicated him; it smelled of sweat, and piss and precome, and the cheap soap the hotel supplied, but most of all it smelled of Draco. Careful not to come too close with his teeth, each motion on his part grazed Draco’s cock, causing it to jump and twitch.

Once it was freed, Harry sat back on his heels and gazed in wonder. Precome leaked and dripped from Draco’s cock. Harry’s mouth watered, but before he could move Draco grabbed his head and pulled it forward. With a loud moan, he thrust into Harry’s mouth, the head pressing against the back of Harry’s throat. Gripping Harry’s head, his fingers pulling at Harry’s hair, Draco fucked Harry’s mouth, hard, deep and fast. Moments later Harry felt the warm gush of hot come flooding his mouth and down his throat. It was fucking fantastic. Harry came before he even touched himself, just from the heat and desire and want of Draco.

After Draco had quickly cleaned himself, they returned to the dancing. Harry, feeling much freer and lighter now, agreed finally to dance a few with Draco. They danced to _Vogue,_ which Draco enjoyed tremendously, laughing at Harry. Harry felt a lot more at ease with the annoying, but ridiculously catchy tune called _Achy Breaky Heart_ and line dancing. Even Ron agreed to join in on the _Macarena,_ once he realized he’d be the only one in the club from old to young, from patrons to staff, not dancing.

They left the club around 3:30 a.m. and were immediately pelted with water bombs, each of them soaked to the skin. One of their assailants turned out to be young culprit who had got Draco earlier. They pretended to chase each other through the small and still crowded streets of the city. Someone gave Draco his own water bomb, the crowd then cheered on their favourite of the two of them. In the end Draco lost, but it was great fun.

The next day would find them all serious and stone cold sober, ready to deal with the problems they faced. Tonight had been for them.

 

**26 February, 1998, moonrise, Island of the Moon, Bolivia, Lake Titicaca**

They each knew they were at the right place. The view from the eucalyptus grove showed all but the western side of the Island of the Moon. They had waited close to an hour when the thin silvery beam of light of the waning crescent moon reflected on the lake. According to the legend, and Draco’s theory, this was where they would most likely find the water that healed.

They made their way down to the edge of the island. Prepared for what – they had no idea.

“Do you think the monsters, or the guardians, will appear one at a time or all together? Do we actually think they’re even still around? I mean it’s a legend and even if true, it was a long time ago,” Ron said.

Draco pointed down the northern end of the coast. “I think this may answer your questions. Yes, they appear to still be around and it looks like they’re going to greet us one at a time.”

Scuttling towards them at an alarming rate of speed was the largest crab Harry had ever seen. It could have made an excellent dance partner for Goyle-- tortoise Goyle-- that is, except for the mismatch in speed.

“I’ve got this,” Draco said.

“What?” Hermione gasped.

“Are you insane?” Ron questioned.

“What do you mean, you’ve got this?” was Harry’s contribution.

“I said, 'I’ve got this', and no, I’m not insane, and what part of ‘I’ve got this’, is so difficult for you to understand?” he replied in answer to each of their concerns. “Just wait. Sit, watch and learn.”

Harry had no intention of just waiting, or sitting. No way was he going to let Draco tackle that monster alone. But, he soon found himself flat on his arse along with the other two.

Harry and Hermione were stunned silent. Ron, however, howled with laughter. Soon Harry had to join him. If they’d thought Blue’s mating dance had been humorous this was an out and out riot.

Draco had bent forward towards the ground while lifting himself up on his toes, to where only the very tips of his fingers and tips of his toes touched the sand. At some point he’d removed his shoes, but Harry had not seen him. He began running back and forth across the beach in a scurrying type of motion, all the time moving his head from side to side as he headed in the direction of the crab.

The crab saw him and stopped. Draco stopped as well. The two of them eyed each other, like boxers in a ring. The crab scuttled forward, and then Draco scuttled forward even more. Repeat. This dance went on for some time, with each pass the giant crab came less close and moved more cautiously. And Malfoy, ah Draco was a thing of, if not exactly beauty, there was a strength and will on him that Harry had not seen before.

The two of them finally came within touching distance. Then it really got interesting. They jibbed and jabbed, in a manner of speaking, the crab aggressive with its claws while Draco responded with his hands.

Hermione, in whispered awe, answered the unspoken question. “He’s talking to the crab!”

And so he was. Draco’s fingers flew in complicated gestures and snaps. The two of them clacked their claws and fingers at one another in rapid yet soft clacks and snaps. Of course Malfoy only had the fingers on one hand to work with at a time, as one hand had to remain on the ground at all times, but apparently he made good use of that one. It seemed Draco was winning the argument, whatever the disagreement was.

After five to ten additional minutes had passed, the giant crab collapsed onto the sand, lay still for a moment, clearly shaken and then returned to standing. He turned and scuttled off down the beach from where he had originally come.

Malfoy stayed as he was, still on tips of fingers and tips of his toes, bent over while he watched the other disappear from their view. Draco started back down the beach towards them but did not return to full standing until he stood directly in front of them.

He stood upright and stretched, bending as far back as he could, popping his back as he did. A large expanse of skin revealed itself above the corduroy trousers and below the thick Aran fisherman style jumper he wore, but Harry was pretty sure he was the only one who would have noticed that. “Well, that’s taken care of.” He brushed the excess sand off the tips of his fingers as he spoke.

The other three could only stare in amazement.

“What? I told you I had this. I wonder what’s next. Something tells me it’ll be up to one of you to take on the next.” He spoke calmly, but Harry could tell he was having a hard time controlling his glee.

“How? I mean to say, what?”

“What the blooming hell was that?” Ron wasn’t shy about speaking.

“Slytherin secrets. I can’t divulge them all, but let’s just say, just because we’re known as the house of snakes, doesn’t mean we don’t have other animals we communicate with. Vincent Crabbe was not named Crabbe because his ancestors were grouchy, although they are that. For centuries before they discovered they were wizards the Crabbe family was harvesters of the sea. Once they learned of their wizarding status the first thing they did was learn to communicate with crabs.

“One night when we were all drunk as lords, Vincent taught us all how to speak crab. I never thought I’d actually have a need to use it.”

“But crabs don’t speak,” Harry interrupted.

“That’s right, they don’t. At least not words, but they talk by their movements. I just told the nice giant crab that we had business here with the water. He said without the special flask, it would do us no good. I told him we were here on a very important mission, and that we had the flask. He insisted that I tell him where we found it and how we had passed all the tests that had been given to us. Honestly, he wasn’t too impressed by all that. However, at one point, somehow, the arm of my jumper drew up and he saw the mark.”

“Did he react to it? And how did you know it was a he?” Ron asked.

“He told me,” Draco replied. “There’s a certain formality to speaking with crabs. We dispensed with the introductions as quickly as possible without appearing rude to one another, but it does take some time. Why do you think I was so long? Fuck, my back is killing me. You’re going to have to do all the work tonight Potter. I think I’m just going to lay there in the good missionary wife position and let you fuck me senseless,” Draco rambled on.

Hermione giggled, Harry flushed with embarrassment and Ron guffawed.

“Yes, Ciprian had a reaction to the Dark Mark.”

“Ciprian?”

“That was his name. When I realized that he had seen it, I wasn’t sure how he felt about it. I decided to come clean and tell him the truth. I told him about my family’s allegiance to the Dark Lord, but that we were here to save a fellow creature that had been harmed in a fight that was not of its concern. Which one of those had the most impact I don’t know, but he accepted it. He said that as far as he was concerned, we could take the water from the lake, but we’d still have to get past his two fellow guardians.

“Oh look. Here comes the next one. Holy fuck, I’m glad I’ve already had my turn. Look at the size of jaws on that thing.”

They turned their heads and immediately all stood and began their own version of the scuttling dance; all in retreat. Coming out of the lake was the largest and ugliest crocodile Harry had ever seen either on telly, in the movies or even in picture books. Draco was right, the jaws on it were terrifying.

Harry and Ron both drew their wands. Hermione gestured for them to lower them.

“Hermione, I am not letting that thing get any closer without some type of defense. And since it’s about three times bigger than me, Merlin’s beard, it’s even larger than the Vipertooth we saw. Our only defense is this tiny little piece of wood,” Ron said to his girlfriend.

“I know that, but we can’t hurt it. If we gain access to the water by harming one of the guardians we lose our worthiness. Draco knew that, didn’t you?”

“What? Who me? Oh yeah sure.” He turned towards Harry and mouthed. “Not a clue,” then in a louder voice to the others, “Sure everyone knew that.”

The crocodile was getting uncomfortably close. Bravely, and idiotically in Harry’s opinion, Hermione stepped forward. Just a small step, but the crocodile noticed. It stopped. It opened its mouth wide. Harry gulped; the teeth on that thing were the size of small stalactites and stalagmites. He could never keep straight which was which.

“Stalactites are the ones that hang down, stalagmites point up,” Draco said beside him. “And no you didn’t say it out loud. It’s just the logical thing to think, when you look at the size of those.” He pointed at the teeth.

Hermione held her ground, even though they could see she was trembling. “We do not wish to harm you. That is not our intent. We simply need to get to… Oh!” she stopped talking. Harry who had lost focus for just a second when Draco began playing with his fingers, looked up quickly.

_What had he missed? If Malfoy didn’t stop distracting him._.. His friend could have been eaten.

“Nope, Ron would have protected her.” Draco whispered in his ear.

“Stop doing that,” Harry snapped.

The crocodile was closing its mouth. Slowly, it must be noted, treacle probably flowed faster than that, but the mouth was closing. When it was complete and all the teeth covered it looked again closely at Hermione, let out a shiver and turned and quickly ran, rambled, skated, whatever kind of movement crocodiles made, back into the water. It soon disappeared from view.

“Well, that was certainly interesting,” Draco said.

“Hermione, what did you do?” Ron asked

She still stood there, slightly in front of them, her eyes wide with shock. “I’ve no idea, but I think we may have just passed the second test.”

“I bet it was you showing your strength and courage in front of such a dangerous opponent. You showed your commitment and worthiness, all without your wand too,” Harry said pointing to the wand in the sand beside her.

Self-conscious, she blushed. “That was an accident, I dropped it. I wasn’t planning on using it, but still. Then I was too afraid to pick it back up again.”

“Whatever, it worked.”

“Ah joy, here comes our third and final contestant for this stage of the competition.” Draco pointed to the sky. “Umm, Potter, I think this one’s yours.”

Harry looked up towards where Draco had indicated. Flying towards them, across the night sky, silhouetted against the thin sliver of the new moon that had risen to its zenith since the confrontation with the guardians had begun, was a Nagini sized snake only with, joy of joys, wings attached. Comparatively speaking they were very small wings. Not really large enough to do the job, but maybe like the bumblebee, no one had ever told this flying serpent it shouldn’t be able to fly. Because fly it did.

“Do try to hurry this along, Harry. That crab walk and talk really did me in and you know what Parseltongue does to me,” Draco quipped, then turned Harry toward him. The kiss was deep and passionate, if short. “Go make nice, but be firm, with the big flying snake.”

And that was exactly what Harry did. When it was over the serpent bowed low before Harry and offered him a ride. Harry declined saying he wanted to stay with his friends. A sentiment the serpent could not understand but accepted.

Ron stood forlornly to the side of the others while they celebrated. The three monsters had all been resolved, but there had been no challenge for him. He’d been unable to prove his own worthiness.

Draco nudged Harry, “What do you think Weasley’s going to have to do. The legend only mentions three monsters, and we’ve taken care of them.”

“I know.”

“Ronald can you please get the water from the lake. Let it flow into the golden flask slowly. Be respectful to the lake,” Hermione requested.

“But I’ve not proved my worthiness. Shouldn’t it be one of you three?” Ron’s self-doubt was back and Harry did not know what to do to assist his mate.

“Hey Weasley, are you still thinking we need to fill the flask as full as we can? You know, get extra, to be able to take it with us, in case we might need some in the future, or if we spill some, just in case,” Draco yelled across to where Ron stood in front of the water lapping at the shoreline, holding the flask in his hand. The moon hidden behind a cloud they could not see the water only hear its gentle waves.

“Fuck, Malfoy! Why did you say that? We need to be--” Harry hissed at him.

“Oh keep your shirt on! It’ll be okay.”

Ron’s back straightened and he replied, “No, I think that would be a very selfish thing to do. We should only take what we need for our immediate needs and no more. The water should be used only for dire situations, or when no other means are available.”

Once he had finished speaking, the moon once again appeared and shone on the lake. The crab, the crocodile and the flying serpent were all there. Close enough to see, but not to touch. They looked at Ron and bowed their heads in agreement and acknowledgment. He had spoken wisely.

The flask was soon filled with clear, clean, crisp, cold water.

“Told you.” Draco nudged Harry who responded by pushing him down on to the sand and snogging him senseless. Well, almost senseless, he wanted Draco to be able to make it back to their hotel. Harry had plans. Long, involved, and gloriously wicked plans.

TBC


	6. chapter 6

**26 February midnight to 27 February 1998, early hours, Puno, Peru, the Colon Inn**

Harry held Draco in his arms. They were flushed and sweating; the sex had been hot and hard and frenzied. They both knew their time together was coming to a cross-road. Harry would be leaving soon with Ron and Hermione. Draco’s future role had not yet been discussed.

“You know, we're going to have to leave when this is done, don’t you. I mean once the Horcrux is removed and destroyed,” Harry said softly and he ran his hands along Draco’s body. He was going to miss this, everything about this.

“I know you have to go. I can come with you.” Draco rolled them over until he was on top looking down at Harry. He held himself up with locked elbows and looked deep into Harry’s eyes. “Can’t I?”

Harry reached up and pulled him down into a deep kiss. It wasn’t a passionate kiss, but it was a kiss of deep passion and love. Yes, he could finally admit it, at least to himself. He was in love with Draco Malfoy. With enough time, he suspected, he would grow to love him as well. . “No, I don’t think you can.”

Draco pulled back and rolled over onto his back. Harry missed his warmth and comfort. Malfoy stared at the ceiling, the mask back on. Harry had not seen it in the weeks since they’d been in South America. The mask that said, _I’m fine I don’t need anyone,_ which was clearly a lie.

“You don’t want me.” The mask slipped a little, but it was enough.

“It’s not that I don’t want you. I want you near me every minute of the day. Not just in my bed--although I doubt I’d toss you out on your arse--but everywhere. The thought of not having you with me opens up a hole in my heart that I thought had been closed. It makes me feel more lost than I’ve been before. You just can’t come with me this time.”

Harry was determined. If protecting Ginny had been important to him, keeping Draco safe was vital to his very being.

“Why not? I think there’s something you’re not telling me.”

“The worst things always happen to those I most care about. It is almost as if Voldemort targets his wrath on those. I can’t let that happen to you. His anger and need to destroy would be ten-fold with you. You would be branded a traitor and not only you but…”

“My parents.” Harry watched as Draco’s face went from pale to ghostly.

He nodded. “Your parents would not be safe. They would be made an example of and would suffer unbearable torture in your absence. You know what he’s capable of. Draco, could you put your parents through that when you don’t have to?”

Draco rolled back over and laid his head in the crook of Harry’s shoulder and tossed his leg over one of Harry’s. They lay in silence, each enjoying the security they felt in each other’s arms. Soon the tips of Draco’s fingers began circular motions around one nipple, while soft breaths caressed the other. Harry hissed as both nipples grew hard. As did his cock.

Draco was silent for so long, you could almost think he was done, but Harry knew better. Soon after, Draco said in a whisper. “What will I do if anything should happen to you? What would I do without you?”

Harry pulled Draco over on top of him and kissed him long and slow and arousing in its passion. When they broke away, he said, “You’ll survive, because that’s what we do. We go on. You’re stronger than you think. But, we don’t have to worry about that now. We’re here now, and I want you to fuck me. Please. I want to know what it feels like to have you inside me.”

“But, you always -- I mean, I always --.”

“Yes I do and yes you do, but not this time.”

“Are you sure?” Draco asked again his eyes searching Harry for any sign of hesitation.

There was none. Harry was sure and he said as much. “I trust you.”

“But I’ve never. I don’t know what to do.”

“Yes you do. Just do what I do to you. I mean you seem to like it, I’m sure I’ll feel the same.” Seeing that Draco was still nervous, Harry reached up and cupped his chin in his hand. He kissed him hard and fast. “Remember I didn’t know what to do either, and you guided me, helped me to learn.”

A slow smile spread across Draco’s face. “I promise I’ll do my best to make it worthwhile and not hurt you.”

“You won’t. I know. How do you want me?”

“Stay as you are for now, we’ll see if things need to change.” With those words Draco leaned over and kissed him, drawing the tip of his tongue along the seam of Harry’s lips, teasing them to open. Unable to resist, Harry’s mouth parted and Draco’s tongue delved inside. Harry let him take control, a position that Draco Malfoy had been born for. The kiss was magic, slow and steady, building to a crescendo of want. Harry’s want. He didn’t know if Draco was feeling the same or not. Harry’s very nerve endings tingled, from the top of his head to the tips of his toes, everything was alive. And just from one kiss. “I think I’ll let you take control of the kissing more often. Wow!” he said breathlessly.

Draco grinned down at him. “We’ve only just begun. Scrunch back a bit. Please,” he added as if he thought for one minute there was a snowball’s chance in Hades that Harry would not comply.

Harry scooted backwards as quickly as he could.

Draco crawled down between Harry’s legs and pushed them apart with his hands. Harry spread as far as he could. Draco’s breath teased over Harry’s abdomen as he dropped hot kisses on Harry’s stomach. He knew Harry was ticklish and was taking advantage, the total git. Harry laughed and squirmed.

The torture lasted only for a second or so as Draco continued moving his mouth southward. Harry’s cock twitched in anticipation. He waited, and waited. What? Raising himself up on his elbows he looked down the length of his body to find Draco grinning at him. “I was wondering how long it would take you.”

“Gah, unfair. You arse.”

Harry hissed as the long swipe of Draco’s tongue ran up the length of his cock. And another. Draco’s tongue pressed hard against the vein, sending shivers of need through Harry. He remained still, and let Draco continue as he wanted. Warmth enclosed his cock, and Harry sighed as Draco’s mouth encased him. Slowly, almost not even aware he was doing it, his hips began minute thrusting.

The incredible feeling didn’t last. Harry was bereft. Then he felt his knees being bent and Draco nudged at him to raise his hips while he slid a pillow underneath them. Hot breath caressed the area behind his balls. God, that was good. He twitched and flexed, tilting more onto his back, presenting his arse.

The sensations he was feeling were so mind blowing. Draco’s mouth was at his opening. He could feel his eyes on him. Draco’s hands reached out and kneaded his arse, separating the two halves with his hands and then, then – how to describe this feeling. It was like nothing he had ever felt. Now he understood why Draco came apart when Harry did this to him. A warm tongue teased at his opening, circling it, probing just at the edge, then the heat of Draco’s mouth covered his opening and sucked. Harry thought he would never be the same. Forget offing the Dark Lord, Harry was going to take up being rimmed as his new calling in life. Who knew that an arse had so much feeling?

Harry allowed the feeling to flow over him, not thinking just feeling. Draco’s tongue continued to fuck him and his mouth sucked him until Harry felt he would come apart. “Draco, stop. I’m going to come.”

“Not a problem. Please do.”

“But I want you to fuck me.”

“Oh I am. Trust me, I am.” Added to the sensation of Draco’s tongue was something new. A finger slicked with lube--barely noticeable-- teased at his entrance as Draco’s tongue continued to prod him. Again Harry began to roll his hips in rhythm. Soon another finger was added, but the tongue fucking stopped.

“Up on your knees please, arse in the air. I want to be able to reach you.”

Again Harry hurried to comply, turning over onto his hands and knees, his face buried in the pillow, his legs spread as far as they could without falling. With one hand, Draco pressed down onto his lower back, effectively stopping any movement on his part. A third finger was added, or maybe even a fourth. It was hard to tell. It was painful, and it was hot. Harry didn’t think he could take it and he feared if Draco stopped fucking him with his fingers, he would probably die. He wanted more. He feared more. He wanted it harder and faster, he wanted Draco to be slow and gentle. But most of all he wanted Draco, wanted whatever he could give him.

The slow fire of his encroaching orgasm curled in his gut. He was close he knew, he tried to hold off, not because he was ashamed or thought he should wait. He simply didn’t want this exquisite feeling to end.

“It is okay, Harry. We’re nowhere near done here,” Draco whispered in his ear, leaning over his back. His hand reached around and grasped Harry’s cock in his. Hard fast strokes, a sure and strong hand, had Harry on the edge, the very edge. “Come for me, Harry,” Draco whispered harshly and Harry fell off the edge. His orgasm ripped through him. Bliss and pain mixed together. Bliss at the incredible pleasure of it, pain at the intensity. Every orgasm with Draco had been amazing and with each Harry thought it had to be a personal best. This time was no different.

 

**27 February 1998, early, early morning, Puno, Peru, the Colon Inn**

“What are you going to do, once we leave?” Harry asked.

“I’ve been thinking about it. I think I’d like the spell put back on me.”

“You mean the one Snape put on you. Why?”

“It feels safer as Blue, and not as lonely. I can communicate with the others on Blue’s Island. More importantly, I don’t think I’ll miss you nearly as much as Blue, as I will as Draco.” Draco’s voice was soft and low.

“Oh.” Harry did not know what to say. It was killing him to know they’d have to leave Draco behind.

“But I don’t want to be a blue-footed booby the entire time. I’d like to take off the spell that blocked Snape’s spell.”

“You want to go back to the 49 hour Blue and 7 hour Draco pattern?” Harry asked wanting to be sure he understood.

“Yes, I think so.”

“Will you be okay?” Suddenly Harry was very scared for Draco.

“I don’t know. Do we ever really know? But yes, I think perhaps I will be. When this is all over and the Dark Lord has been destroyed, you can come and get me.”

“What if Snape comes to get you before then? Or what if Voldemort calls you? Then what?”

“I don’t know that either. I guess, I’ll have to wait and see, but worrying about it now does us no good.” He turned towards Harry and let his hands wander once again over Harry’s chest. “Since we’re going to be separating soon, I’d rather say good-bye to you here and now. Not in front of the others."

Harry pulled him into his arms and this time Draco took him slow and steady, as they said their good-byes.

**27 February 1998, mid-morning, Puno Peru, Colon Inn**

“I’m starving,” Ron said as he did most every morning when they met for breakfast.

“Weasley, you say that every morning,” Draco said which caused Harry to laugh as he’d just been thinking the same thing. “I could eat a small alpaca all by myself, I’m sure,” Draco continued, which wasn’t usual. It was easy to see why Draco was so thin, he hardly ever ate. Even Hermione usually ate more than him.

“After we eat, then we need to get ready to leave. We’ve been gone long enough,” Hermione said.

She was right, and they all knew it. They packed up everything, including the Golden Flask. Ron was the one assigned responsibility for its safety. It just didn’t feel right in the possession of any of the other three.

As they waited for their breakfast, Draco laid his head against Harry’s shoulder. Harry understood how he felt. The end was coming and after their conversation during the night, they both knew what that meant.

 

**27 February 1998, evening, Puerto Ayora, Santa Cruz Island, Galapagos Islands**

Trepidation embraced each of them as they Apparated into the small alley they had used previously. It ran around the back of the hotel Estrella de Mar, and was where they had Apparated back and forth to Blue’s Island.

There had been no argument from any of them that they should return to their previous hotel, in the center of Puerto Ayora, before going to the Island. They had all felt it safe to Apparate directly back to the Galapagos Islands and time was of the essence. Now that they had the flask and it was filled with the healing water, one question remained but they were all too scared to voice it.

What if it didn’t work? What if they had fallen for some ancient legend or folk-tale that was just that – a legend or some tall-tale that had no basis in reality? Close to a month they had been gone, 28 days they had spent on their journey. They had faced some hardships, days of danger and sickness. Granted, there had been joy and laugher as well. Harry had fallen deeply in love with the last person he would have ever dreamed of, Draco.

If this didn’t work, and he knew Ron and Hermione agreed with him, there would be no other choice. Draco would have to be convinced, Goyle would have to be killed. _Murdered_ Draco’s voice accused him in his thoughts.

It was a conversation Harry hoped they would not have to have.

None of them had slept well, or hardly at all, the night before. The island and Goyle could and would have to wait one more day. It was important they be at their best mentally and physically; ready to face whatever the Horcrux fought them with.

 

**28 February, 1998, morning, Blue’s Island, Galapagos Island**

They Apparated into the familiar clearing. It looked the same as it always had. Draco, however, knew something was wrong immediately. “Something’s not right,” he said.

“Looks the same to me,” Ron shrugged and Harry agreed.

“It feels wrong, badly wrong; remember this was my home for five months. I know this island.” He looked rapidly around the area searching for what it might be.

A low, pitiful, yet sort of angry hissing sound was coming from the north side of the island. It sounded like slow gas leak, only more annoying. “What is that unholy noise?” Harry questioned. The sound was getting on his nerves terribly; his headache returning.

Draco stopped dead still, his eyes large, and his face white. “That’s Goyle! He’s in pain. We’ve got to get to him.” He began running towards the sound.

Harry stopped him. “Wait.”

“Potter, you arse! Let me go. He needs me!” Twisting and squirming he tried to evade Harry’s grasp.

“Malfoy, for fuck’s sake. Stop. Get a grip,” Harry snapped back.

Draco’s shoulder slumped and he stood perfectly still. Harry did not let go. He knew better than to trust Draco not to take off the moment his grip was relaxed.

“Draco,” he said softly.

The eyes Draco looked up at him did not convey feelings of affection. If looks could murder, Ron and Hermione would be ordering the medical examiner for him about now.

“We’ll go to help him, but in just a moment. It sounds like he’s really in pain. A hurt and wounded animal is dangerous; you should remember that from Buckbeak.” He looked pointedly at Draco, who muttered something about being mauled and could have been killed. Harry paid him no attention. “And if they’re as old and as large as Goyle is, not to mention having had a Horcrux in him all this time, he’s going to be exceptionally difficult to handle.”

“And no one was here with him. He’s had to go through his all alone,” Draco said softly. “I should have stayed here.”

“No. You were right to come with us, without you we would have failed. I’m just sorry it took us so long. We knew the Horcrux would affect him, remember we told you. Ron even told Blue how strongly it affected him, but you may not remember that.”

“No, I remember. I remember feeling sad for Ron when he told Blue that.”

“Once we get it out of his shell and destroy it, he’ll be fine.”

“Are you sure?” Draco looked at him suspiciously.

“No, but he should be. I mean do you see any noticeable long lasting effects on Ron?”

Draco raised an eyebrow. “Are you sure you want me to answer that?”

“I meant different, long lasting effects.”

Draco looked at the others and said, “He seems different, but in a good way. Like maybe once he got rid of the Horcruxes influence, he lost some of his own built in resentment.” He turned around to look at Harry. “Could that be true? I just thought of that, but yes. There are long lasting affects; they just seem to be more positive than negative.”

Harry had to stop and weigh that in his mind. Draco was right, ever since they had, or rather Ron had, destroyed the locket he had been like a new person. The old Ron was still there, but better.

Speaking of Ron, he and Hermione had been talking softly to the side while this conversation was taking place. Harry turned to them and said, “Goyle is reacting to the Horcrux. That’s him you hear hissing. We’re going to approach him, slowly and with caution. Agreed?

“Malfoy? Agreed?" Harry asked when Draco, lost in his own thoughts, had not responded.

He nodded, if somewhat distractedly

Goyle hissed loudly as they stepped out of the clearing and approached him. The other three moved purposely to the side and left Draco standing in front of the tortoise.

It didn’t exactly stop hissing, but Harry thought perhaps the feeling of anger behind the hissing wasn’t as strong as it had been. He took this as a good sign.

Not knowing how powerful the healing water might be or what the side effects might be, they’d decided to apply it slowly and in small increments. The process to completely penetrate every inch of the mark on the tortoise’s back took over an hour.

With each drop they added, the tension, anger and pain began to decrease. At least Harry liked to think he could see it lessening. As Goyle became less enraged, Draco started giving him small amounts of the healing water directly into his mouth. The healing progressed.

Harry stood by, waiting and watching to see if the Horcrux would be destroyed while part of the shell or if it would somehow release itself and return back to its former state. Suddenly and with no warning there was a sharp crack and a small silver charm flew out of the shell. Harry caught it. Immediately he could feel the pull as the blackness of the magic, of the Horcrux, began to wash over him. Voldemort could feel it too. He was there, immediately, in Harry’s mind. Harry felt himself being pulled under, but he couldn’t let go.

“QUICK! POUR THE WATER ON IT! DESTROY IT!!!” a voice shrieked. It sounded as if it was coming from a long way away. Harry knew the voice.

Harry raised his head, and with Voldemort’s eyes he looked for the owner of the voice, the voice that wanted to destroy his Horcrux. Harry knew he could never let that happen. If Voldemort knew Draco was part of this, he would kill him.

Harry felt Voldemort’s anger and his drive to cause pain, and he fought them with every part of this being. But fighting those feelings was weakening his resolve to keep Voldemort from seeing Draco. Harry could keep himself from hurting Draco, or he could keep Voldemort from knowing Draco was there; he could not do both. Something had to give. The overwhelming impulse to cause Draco pain filled him and he began to move forward. Somehow he managed to keep his eyes on the ground, not looking up, never looking up. The conflict between being the one to hurt Draco and protecting him from more harm by Voldemort by being the one to hurt him was tearing Harry in two.

Harry’s hand was seized and the small silver charm that he could not let go of himself was ripped from him and thrown to the ground. A low but angry buzzing could be heard, like a horde of angry bees. Harry and Voldemort turned at the sound as Draco held the flask over the Horcrux and poured. As the healing water touched the Horcrux it hissed and steam rose from it, black and grey and red – deep, dark and angry. All of Voldemort’s attention was now on the Horcrux. Harry felt his anger and anguish as it was being destroyed before his eyes. Voldemort was enraged, but he was also defeated, at least for now.

There was a loud BOOM! And the charm exploded; the pieces all disappearing, Voldemort with them.

Harry fell to the ground scared, exhausted and beaten. How could he keep doing this? He wasn’t strong enough. He felt Draco’s presence next to him, and Harry looked up. Tears of rage streamed down Draco’s face. Determinedly, he still held the flask in his hand.

“I could not allow him to force you to hurt me. That would have devastated you. He had to be stopped.” Shaking, his knees gave way and Draco collapsed on the ground and into Harry’s arms, the flask finally released. “But I used up all the healing water,” he said, his voice tremulous. “I hope we won’t need any more.”

Harry looked around, his gaze fell on Goyle. The tortoise was happily eating leaves off a tree with low hanging branches. Munching away contentedly, much the same as he had when Harry had seen him in the Pensieve. Goyle was okay.

“Did Voldemort see Draco?” Hermione whispered in a voice so low only Harry could hear her as she knelt on the other side of him.

“I don’t know,” was all he could say. “I just don’t know,” he repeated.

Ron’s gasp forced Harry to look in his direction. Ron was focused on the ground where the flask lay. It was no longer gold. Once again it was the colour of mud, only this time it was red, not the greenish hue it had been. As they watched, all five of them--Goyle, too, was interested in the events-- the flask began to shimmer, and then it vanished.

Cries of exclamation, “Where did it go? What happened?” came from all, except Hermione.

“I imagine it’s gone to hide itself again, where it’ll remain safe until the next worthy person has need of its services.”

Harry wished them, whoever it might be, a well and safe passage. He had one more night with Draco before they’d have to return to Great Britain and finish fulfilling the prophecy. There was a Dark Lord that needed killing.

**1 March, 1998, morning, Blue’s Island, Galapagos Islands**

Ron and Hermione waited on the other side of the island while Harry and Draco lingered. It was time to say good-bye. Now that the time had come he found that neither of them knew what to say. They had said their main good-bye in their room at the Colon Inn in Puno. What their future would be, neither of them could answer.

Draco opened his arms and Harry moved inside them. He’d gotten so used to being the one that held Draco, it felt good for Draco to hold him for a bit. Things were probably about to get bad, really bad, once he returned to England. For now, he allowed himself to just be held and comforted.

“You should go,” Draco spoke softly. “It’s already afternoon in England. Even being able to Apparate greater distances you still don’t want to arrive too late. Besides, in about thirty minutes, you’ll be holding a feathered beast with blue feet.”

“Is it supposed to happen that soon?”

“I asked Hermione to make it happen as soon as you left. Blue may be sad, but I doubt he’ll try to Apparate after you. And I would.”

Harry stepped back. Looked Draco in the eyes, and said, “See you. Be safe.” He turned and walked towards where the others waited for him.

In a low voice behind him he heard, “Take care Harry. I’ll miss you.”

 

**Epilogue 14 January, 2001, Malfoy Manor, Wiltshire, England**

The autumn sun shone through the large stained glass window of the Malfoys’ suite at the manor. Harry sat and waited. Truth be told, he didn’t know this suite of rooms at all, and wasn’t sure if he’d ever been here. Well, perhaps, at least once. Draco had insisted that every room in the manor by “christened” at least once. It was a big house; Harry couldn’t actually swear they’d shagged in every one of them. The fact that this particular bed had once belonged to Lucius Malfoy had not dampened Harry’s enthusiasm to fuck Draco into every surface they could find, vertical or horizontal.

Narcissa was currently living in southern Spain. With Lucius serving out his five year sentence in Azkaban, she preferred not to live in the mansion without him. She would wait for him to complete his sentence, a much shorter one than many thought he deserved. They would then return home together. Until then, the manor was Draco’s.

A knock on the door and the house elf Bimmy opened it, stepped just inside and announced, “Master Draco Malfoy would like to request permission to enter.”

Harry, confused, could only nod. What was going on? When had Draco ever asked permission to enter a room, especially in his own home?

The door opened wide and Draco stepped inside. Harry’s breath caught. He was still so ethereally beautiful. He was clad in a creamy white robe, trimmed in splotches of different shades of brown from pale beige to deepest darkest almost black, with dark brown dragon hide ankle boots. He smiled at Harry, one of those smiles that made Harry’s heart melt and his cock throb. Each and every time, without fail, world without end.

Slowly, and one by one, he began removing items from the pockets of his robe. Laying them on the rug in front of where Harry sat, stopping at the placement of each item to stare intently at Harry, The look of joy in his eyes unmistakable. The items were small, miniscule, but Harry recognized a duvet, two pillows, a table and two chairs and a tea kettle with multiple boxes of Earl Grey, Draco’s favourite, along with several containers of treacle. The necessary ingredient for what Draco termed “Harry’s addiction”.

He stared at the items on the floor. Harry’s heart was pounding, could this be real? Was he mistaking what this meant? They had never discussed this, never anything like this. He couldn’t speak.

He looked up and saw Draco beaming at him. Yet still, there was also the look of disdain. Harry had long since come to recognize it as the face Draco wore when he wasn’t sure he hadn’t just left his heart open to be crushed to a pulp. “Draco?”

Draco flicked his wand, “ _Engorgio,_ ” and the items all returned to full size.

And Harry understood. “Draco? Are you -?”

Draco pointed his wand toward his own feet. The dragon- hide, ankle- length boots turned into bright blue trainers, high-tops as well. The robe opened to reveal the brown splotches were actually feathers. Underneath Draco was completely utterly and beautifully naked. Not a stitch did he wear, except for the blue trainers. He lifted first one leg in an exaggerated matter, the bottom of the trainer pointed at Harry, and then the other foot followed the pattern. One step at a time Draco crossed the floor towards Harry in the ritualized dance Harry had seen him do once before. A series of small head nods and bobs accompanied this journey. Once he had arrived directly in front of Harry he spread his arms wide, lifted his head toward the ceiling and let out a series of short but piercing whistles. He also managed to stick his arse out in a most provocative manner, which had Harry collapsing on the bed with laughter.

“Well?” he asked once he stood directly in front of Harry.

Harry sat up. “Yes,” he whispered joyously. “Yes, yes and yes, a thousand times yes.” He reached up to pull Draco into his arms.

“One would have been enough, but I’ll take the others as well,” Draco laughed and then gasped as Harry’s hands once again began exploring the body that he knew so well already.

The End

. 


End file.
